


Dead by Maniac

by Mistheart101



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Genre: (that's from the taser thing in the comics), Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lemme know if anything else should be tagged., that being Gun Incident, that's chapter 6 and the reverse au it's a doozy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2020-10-24 22:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20713535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistheart101/pseuds/Mistheart101
Summary: A collection of drabbles I've written for a JTHM/DBD AU. Johnny gets taken to become a killer in the Entity's realm at some point after the comics, Devi's taken to be a survivor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So the summary already explains the gist of this, but I do wanna note! Tumblr user devnny is a fucking godsend and has drawn stuff for the AU, including a ref for Johnny: https://devnny.tumblr.com/post/186307693681  
Additionally, I've got an ask blog for him at https://ask-the-maniac.tumblr.com

All things considered, Johnny wasn’t pulled into trials very often. Maybe the Entity preferred relying on its <strike>obedient</strike> tried and tested killers. Maybe it was letting him settle into what could barely be considered a routine. Or maybe it just wanted to fucking drive him stir-crazy.

It had created a facsimile of his home, and he was confined there. He could walk around the yard, sure, but a thick fog surrounded the property. Every time he ventured into it, he ended up looping back around. It was **incredibly** frustrating for him. He didn’t even have the basement to pace around in, the damn thing hadn’t gone that far in its recreation.

He could see figures in the fog, on occasion. They seemed as incapable of entering his territory as he was of leaving it. Probably for the best; he wasn’t very social before coming here, and current circumstances exacerbated that. It was a mix of vitriolic bitterness at being the pawn of another eldritch force, the knowledge that he wasn’t very pleasant to look at, and countless other things. 

One of the first things he’d done after being released from that first ‘trial’ (after realizing the pain that’d driven him into a frenzy was suddenly dulled) was scrub himself clean of the survivors’ blood, leading to him getting a good look in the mirror at himself.

His face was marred by cuts of varying size and severity, that bullet hole above his left eye no longer a scar, now a fresh wound again, and electrocution scars radiated from somewhere on the right side of his head, fading about halfway across. Probably from when he tasered himself. There were probably more bits and pieces of damage littered across his body, he didn’t bother checking.

All of this, old wounds and pain brought back with a vengeance, to make him cooperate with some kind of sky-spider _thing _that fed off murder and emotion.

Fuck.

At least **_it_** didn’t talk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Johnny demonstrates his mori and also fucks up.

Johnny wasn’t sure how many trials he’d been through now.

Enough to the point where he’d grown used to the routine. He’d be sitting around in his home, then feel a sudden pull towards the fog surrounding it. One way or another, the fog drawing closer or him walking into it, he’d end up somewhere else. The dull ache of his injuries would escalate back to near agony, urging him to chase down and kill a handful of survivors. If the trial’s outcome displeased the Entity, he’d return to his little corner of the realm with continued pain. Clear punishment, meant to push him into giving in.

He hated to admit that it was starting to work.

Conversely, success killed the pain. It also seemed to bring gifts from the Entity; things to make trials a little easier (or harder, depending on perspective), and oddly enough, the occasional notepad and pencil. The opportunity to draw was welcome, at least.

Sometimes, he could hear other people just beyond the fog. If nothing else, it was its own form of entertainment, and it taught him a little more about this place. An example being that while his fellow killers did have names, they were mostly referred to with titles: Trapper, Huntress, Cannibal, that kind of thing.

He wasn’t terribly enthused upon discovering he was referred to as the Maniac by them, but could begrudgingly admit that it was fitting. He’d seen the crazed, wide-eyed look he had during trials, though it was less from actual insanity (which he admittedly _did _have in spades) and more from a desire to get the goddamn pain to stop. Not as if they’d know. All they knew was that he was a new variation on their usual obstacle.

Something worried him about their discussion of him, though. Sometimes, it seemed like someone would make them stop and change the topic. Their voice was… distorted in some way. If he had to chalk that up to anything, it’d be the Entity meddling.

It was still concerning. He could count on one hand the amount of people who wouldn’t want to hear about him.

The idea of _any _of them being here–

That train of thought was interrupted by the feeling of the fog calling for him again. He took his time in approaching the fog, an ultimately insignificant way to be petty, but it was _something_. He brought an offering with him on his way, one that’d let him kill the last survivor left by his own hand. It granted some level of stress relief to do so. And if nothing else, was an effective fail-safe if he'd otherwise failed to sacrifice anyone.

The time spent waiting for the trial location to be formed gave him a few moments to brace himself for the inevitable unpleasantness.

A blink, and he was in trial grounds. Without even waiting for the pain to kick in first, he took in his surroundings before stalking off to look for any of the four survivors.

He got out a small sigh of relief when he noticed there was no particular “obsession” this time; didn’t have to worry about any of them stabbing into his shoulder on the way to a hook.

It didn’t take long for him to find someone working on a generator, lunging forward to slash at their back as they fled. Another attack and they fell to the ground, quickly picked up by Johnny and carried to a hook, unceremoniously tossed onto it with a scream of pain. The hooks were littered around the place, the Entity’s preferred method for receiving ‘sacrifices.’

Johnny never made any particular note of who he was against; there wasn’t much of a point in doing so. Those overheard campfire discussions eventually let him connect names to voices, then the trials connected voices to pained grunts and cries. He’d know who he was against, but it didn’t matter, seeing as this was the only interaction he had with them.

A few minutes later, it suddenly _did _matter.

Because the next survivor he found was Devi.

She was crouched next to a generator, working on repairing it before pausing and looking around. He quickly backed away and ducked behind a corner, quietly grateful that the trial space was the Memorial Institute, rooms and hallways instead of mostly wide open space.

That small feeling of gratefulness paled in comparison to the multitude of negatives he felt.

Another generator, further away, roared to life and brought along an uptick in his pain. His response was a wordless snarl at the ceiling and stalking off to look for the others. Those feelings could be picked apart _after _the trial.

The first survivor he’d thrown on a hook had actually tried to unhook themselves, only hastening the Entity’s progress in claiming them. They weren’t rescued by the others in time.

The second sacrifice got claimed on their third time being hooked, having been saved a couple times. Hadn’t done them any good, obviously.

That left two more, one of whom he was much more willing to hurt than the other. He wasn’t entirely sure if Devi had even seen him at any point (and hoped she hadn’t), but knew the odds of that happening were slowly ticking up.

One of the exit gates opened, triggering the beginning of the collapse. It was meant to spur the survivors into leaving, rather than sticking around and prolonging the trial. If they didn’t leave in time, the Entity stepped in. Quite violently, too.

The dread of displeasing the Entity rushed him on, leading him to a survivor he’d feel absolutely no guilt from killing. A cry of pain rang out as he got them with his knife, rushing them on to the exit gates.

Where Devi was waiting.

If he’d been allowed to speak during trials, he’d likely be swearing up a storm, but all he could do was avert his gaze from her (<strike>don’t think about the look on her face, don’t dwell, get this over with</strike>) and focus on the real target.

He managed to get one last knife swing at the fleeing survivor, downing them before they could escape. A quick glance at the exit and a gut feeling verified that Devi had run beyond the trial walls. “_Probably for the best_,” he thought before kicking the straggler onto their back, kneeling over them as he pulled a second knife from his jacket.

Their attempts at fighting him off and escaping were quickly thwarted as he began gouging the twin blades into their gut. He kept the stabbing up for a good few seconds, but the Entity never did allow these personal kills to drag on, so he concluded it with a quick dual stab to the throat.

Another look at the exit granted him the unwelcome knowledge that Devi hadn’t gone back to the campfire. She just watched him nearly _disembowel _someone. Johnny grimaced as the fog rolled in around him, feeling a little fortunate that he couldn’t quite see the look on her face (though fully aware it wasn’t a happy one, that’s for fucking sure). 

He blinked, now kneeling in his living room. Standing back up, he shuddered at the feeling of blood soaking into his clothes.

One quick wash-up in the bathroom and change of outfit later, he glared into the mirror, soon dropping the look with a sigh and running a hand through his hair.

This… Changed things.

**_Fuck_**.

The next time he sat by the fog and listened to the idle chatter of the survivors, their discussion inevitably turned to Devi, wondering why “the Maniac” had let her escape. The stream of questions was ended with an explanation, delivered with a tone which he could only describe as venomous. He could admit that it was justified, though.

Still stung enough to make him shoot a glare up at the sky as some part of him noted that the Entity hadn’t distorted her voice this time. Fucking thing must’ve looked forward to their mutual reactions.

He didn’t look forward to whatever the future held, he was sure of that much.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Devi finds where Johnny's holed up in the Entity's Realm.  
Note: This is kind of just a transferring of an rp thread I had on the ask-the-maniac blog, feat. deadbydevi  
The first two bits are Like That because it started as an ask and became a whole thing. Order is Devi, then Johnny.

(glares at you from beyond the veil)   
  


-

“…Well.  **Fuck** .”

  
-

Oh, yes, it’s  _ definitely  _ him – she would recognize that scraggly little silhouette anywhere, even with this shitty fog, and even when one of his high beam-looking eyes was apparently burnt out.

And of  **course ** it’s him. Of COURSE he’s here. Why wouldn’t he be? All the  _ other  _ fucked up murderers are here, why not add  **hers ** to the pile.

She narrowed her eyes into slits, hoping to express her disgust without having to say anything.

  
-

Some part of him, not quite grasping the severity of the situation, has him raise a hand in greeting, though it’s at least offset by him backing away from the fog. 

His eyes dart from side to side, only stopping upon remembering his escape routes may as well be nonexistent. …Unless he decides to scramble onto the roof of his house, that could work.  _ Maybe _ . 

He opens his mouth, intent on saying something, before shutting it again, doubtful that it’d be anything worthwhile.   
  
-   
  


Her jaw slacked. Had he really just…  _ waved  _ at her? God, that complete  **fucker** —no, no. She was  _ not  _ going to let him get a rise out of her. What she needed from him was answers, and she couldn’t get answers when she was frothing-at-the-mouth angry… besides, she could always maim him afterwards.

She started to walk forward, with the fog pulling around her leg as though it disapproved of the action.   
  
-   
  
He drops his arm, evidently realizing his mistake as he backs up further. Fuck– Was this even allowed, her showing up here? It wasn’t as if he  _ knew; _ this was the first time someone had actually shown up at his place in the Realm. 

“Wait, wait, I’m– I can explain,” he manages to stammer out, looking more and more like a cornered animal ready to bolt.   
  
-   
  
“And you  _ will _ .” Devi hissed, her steps growing more assertive with each stride. She recognized fully as she approached that the building hiding in this shadowy clearing was, in fact, Johnny’s house. It only made her angrier to see this crappy, glorified-shed again, and its presence further fed her suspicions.

“I KNOW you had a hand in dragging me here, I KNOW you did!”   
  
-   
  
_ That  _ actually gets him to stop in his tracks, panic shifting to confusion. “That’s… No? Why the  **fuck ** would I do that?” He untenses somewhat, though still maintains a defensive posture.   
  
-   
  
Devi grunts out a scoff as she reaches him, and hates the hesitation in her limbs from the notion of venturing any closer. She doesn’t want to admit to even herself that she’s afraid of him, but she  _ did _ just watch him gut a man in the last trial.

“Don’t you  **dare** play stupid!” Another scoff. “There’s no way YOU would be in this  _ Hell-hole _ by coincidence!”   
  
-   
  
Johnny winces at that. “Okay, fair point,” he admits before continuing, “But it’s not like I have a say in who ends up in this goddamn place!”

He crosses his arms, looking fairly indignant. “And even if I  _ did _ , what makes you think I’d want to bring  _ you  _ here?”   
  
-   
  
She squints at him; if he’s to be believed, was the process random? Maybe based on emotion? Yeah, right. Even though she couldn’t prove it, she was convinced that whatever bullshit place this was held the answer to her ever-vexing question; what was  **wrong** with Johnny?

“Are you kidding me? You harass me for months, drop that stupid fucking recording on me, and then I end up  _ here _ another x-amount of months later!  **You** WANT me here — trapped like a rat in a maze!”   
  
-   
  
“No I fucking don’t! _ I _ don’t want to be here, for fuck’s sake! Hate me all you goddamn want, but I still respect you too much to want you stuck in this fucking place,” he replies, fingers drumming against his arms in an irritated rhythm.   
  
-   
  
She blinks. Ignoring the ‘respect’ comment, what was he  _ saying? _ She was under the impression that this nightmarish hellscape was his place of origin, or at the very least, where he’d come to rest after all his fiendish acts in the  _ normal  _ world.

“What… what do you  **mean ** you don’t want to be here?” She asks, almost demanding. “Isn’t this where you’re  _ from? _ Isn’t this some kind of sanctuary for murderers and demons!?”   
  
-   
  
He nearly laughs, but he looks more offended than anything. “Of all the conclusions to jump to– No! No, I’m not from here. And maybe for the killers that go along with what that thing in the sky wants, but not  _ me _ .”   
  
-   
  
Devi’s anger is momentarily stunned out of her.

“Wh—are you  _ serious? _ ” She takes a step closer without thinking. “If you don’t want to be here, and don’t belong here, then how did you  **get ** here?”   
  
-   
  
He shrugs, barely even noticing her getting closer. “Was doing… Something, I can’t remember what. Fog rolled in out of nowhere, next thing I knew I was in some void, and that… thing,” he gestures towards the sky, as if indicating the Entity, ”was talking to me. Sort of. I had the impression that it wanted me to do what it said.” 

“I said no, believe it or not. It… didn’t take that very well,” Johnny admits, glancing down at his arms for a moment.   
  
-   
  
She stares at him. There’s a mountain of uncertainties in believing anything he says, but there’s also a growing level of horror in her chest at the thought that Johnny is as much here against his will as she is. She continues inching forward slowly, cautiously, and her eyes widen in disbelief the more visible Johnny’s face becomes.

“J… Johnny, your…” Her lower eyelids wince. His features are marred with a multitude of scars, some of the lacerations looking more recent than others. She’s shocked, having thought the blood she saw all over his head earlier was that of his victims’. “ — _ your _ … your  _ face _ .”   
  
-   
  
“Yeah, it’s bad, I know,” he replies, trying to sound calm, when in reality he’s feeling anything  _ but  _ calm. “Doesn’t hurt. Not right now, at least. ‘s not just the face, though.”

He tugs up one of his jacket sleeves, revealing more scars. “It didn’t take “no” for an answer. Old wounds, new ones, they all piled up. I caved in at some point.”   
  
-   
  
Devi hopes that her gasp wasn’t audible. Her eyes try to focus on his injured – or,  _ formerly  _ injured – forearm while she attempts to absorb his admission that he was  **tortured ** into complying with whatever the Hell it is that controlled this place, but something keeps stealing her attention away while he speaks.

His teeth look…  _ broken  _ at first, as if shattered into jagged shapes, but the more she watches, the more she realizes that they are all still very much in-tact; each tooth is just brought up to an inhuman-looking point, like a canine’s. Her own mouth opens slightly, aghast, as she continues to stare.   
  
-   
  
He glances away, face heating up from the attention. “Do you have to stare? I know I look like a mess, I don’t need the reminder.” As he says that, he pulls his sleeve back down.   
  
-   
  
“OH.” Devi straightens her posture and removes her attention away from his monstrous teeth for the time being. She wants to apologize out of habit, but her distaste for Johnny keeps any apology for him from escaping.

“…It did all this to you? Just so that you’d comply?” She asks. “Huh. I figured, well, a place like  **this ** would be like paradise to someone who likes…  _ murdering people _ .”

The sentence ends with a bit of a bite.   
  
-   
  
Johnny grimaces. “Did it because I  _ had  _ to, most of the time, not because I liked it. That’s its own long story, but the point is that it was outside forces telling me to do all that. Well… That or trying to off myself, but attempts at that tended to fail. Anyways, things happened, I got free of  _ that  _ particular problem, and actually had some amount of freedom for once. Nothing compelling me to kill or torture or any of that.” 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair in a bit of an anxious motion, before continuing, “So when the fucking Entity grabbed me and wanted to make me do all that again, I said no.  _ Because I wanted my goddamn freedom back _ . I’d gotten used to finally being in control of my life, then that fucking thing came in and started making demands!”   
  
-   
  
Her voice was lost in silence again. Devi’s eyes fixate on him harshly, this time with an amount of fearful awe, and she hugs her own arms in an attempt to subdue the gnawing discomfort boiling up in her stomach.

“…So what she said about you was  _ true _ , then.” She mumbles, still focused on his face. “I guess that’s what she was going to have me do too, if I’d fallen for the empty threats; kill, torture, etc. Sickness didn’t just want to use my brain to manifest herself… I should have guessed that wasn’t the  **only ** reason…”   
  
-   
  
He blinks, a feeling of dread creeping into his thoughts. “Who– What’re you–”

Another blink as he cuts himself off, realization dawning on his face before it shifts to guilt and horror as he sinks to the ground, legs brought up to his chest, head clutched between his hands, elbows resting on his knees. “Fuck,  _ fuck _ , I didn’t know that’d they– that whatever was wrong with me could–  ** _FUCK_ ** !”   
  
-   
  
The dirt and decrepit grass under Devi’s boots mats further as she stumbles back a few steps. She holds her position, ready to run if necessary, but slowly allows her tense muscles to relax as she watches Johnny’s distressed form on the ground. Her eyebrows knot uncomfortably at his lamenting, and she scowls to ignore any sympathy she has for him.

“Johnny –  _ Johnny! _ ” She snaps, hoping to break him out of his loathing without having to get closer. “ **Nny, ** calm the fuck  _ down! _ ”   
  
-   
  
“How the hell am I supposed to calm down?! I was  _ already  _ feeling bad over the fact that you got brought here, and now this!” 

He lets out a frustrated, miserable groan, curling further into himself.   
  
-   
  
Her mouth purses into an annoyed squiggle. She moves closer again, bending just enough to be in his space without squatting.

“It doesn’t MATTER, Johnny. She’s DEAD,  _ okay? _ Well, mostly dead. As dead as I could make her.” Devi stands up again, crossing her arms in mock aloofness. Sickness wasn’t the otherworldly horror she was  _ currently  _ concerned with, and it felt pointless to dwell on anything besides the present issue.   
  
-   
  
“Sure, but it still happened, which is my fault! Because I went and decided “Maybe positive social interaction is a good idea,” I got you roped into all of this!”

His guilt-induced rant stops as he looks up, however. “…Hang on, wait. You  _ killed  _ your head-voice thing?”    
  
-   
  
Devi’s lip hangs low in confusion.

“Well, yeah.” She answers, arms still crossed. “Didn’t  **you?** You said that you got free of yours before you were brought here – how did you do it if you  _ didn’t  _ kill it?”   
  
-   
  
He lets out a nervous, involuntary laugh, suddenly looking  _ very  _ uncomfortable. “I– Uh. It was kind of an accident. And they weren’t the ones that died. Not first, anyways. There’s a reason this eye’s as fucked up as it is” he mumbles, the discomfort growing as he taps a finger next to his left eye, not wanting to fully explain what happened. Instead, he ends up pointing to a circular scar above his eye after a couple seconds, hoping that’s indicative enough.    
  
-   
  
She lets her arms drop, shocked again.

“You… you were  **shot** ?” She asks breathlessly, then continues, unable to quell her curiosity. “By  _ who?  _ One of the people that you attacked?”

Devi pauses, a different idea immediately forming.

“…It, it wasn’t…  _ self-inflicted _ , was it?” The scar wasn’t  **exactly** on his temple, the stereotypical spot, but…   
  
-   
  
“It kind of was? I’d gotten a little overconfident in what seemed like an apparent inability for me to die and, well. I rigged up a robot arm with a gun to a phone so it’d shoot me if someone called and I answered the phone. Because who the hell would call me, right? …And then someone did, in fact, call me. Thought I’d turned off the arm. Turns out no, no I did  ** _not _ ** turn off the arm.”

He tucks his head back down, giving a brief shudder at the memories. “Not an experience I’d recommend.”   
  
-   
  
Devi winces at him uncomfortably. His explanation is so bizarre — a robot arm??? — but if it’s all just a huge lie, she feels no need to press for the truth. The point was that he got shot in the face.

“And you… you  _ lived _ through getting shot like that?” She leans against the wall of his house, asking her question to the ground.   
  
-   
  
He shakes his head. “Well, no. I’m pretty sure I died? Bled out for a while. I think a couple people escaped from the basement. Insulted one of them, he stomped my head in. Kind of glad that didn’t carry over to here. Anyways, might’ve been through Heaven and Hell before getting kicked back to the world of the living, still not  _ entirely  _ sure about that actually happening. Either way, I’m stuck with this,” he points again to the scar before continuing, “ _ and _ with being half-blind.”   
  
-   
  
Devi’s expression wavers pitifully. Through her confusion, she debates if any or all of this could be true; she’s gone into trials with killers that she was convinced until then, existed only in movies; she’s heard campfire stories of killers she’s yet to meet that are supposedly  **undead** ; Johnny being resurrected was hardly the weirdest thing here. But it might be the weirdest for  _ her _ .

Her body slowly slips down the wall until she’s seated loosely on the grass with her legs tented. She brings a hand up to weakly rub her tired eyes, and wishes her previous venom was back to energize her.

“ _ Jeezus Christ _ , Nny…”   
  
-   
  
“Probably not the best comparison,” he quietly jokes, giving a weak chuckle.

He sits quietly for a few moments before talking again. “But like I said, yeah, I’m not here because I want to be. I’d leave if I could, but who fucking knows how possible that is. Either I do what the Entity wants, or it puts me through a  ** _lot _ ** of pain. Same thing happens if I do poorly in a trial. Hell, it opens these all back up  _ during  _ trials to fucking egg me on or something.”   
  
-   
  
Devi folds her arms on top of her knees and rests her mouth against her wrists while Johnny talks. The threat of physical agony is common with manipulative demons, apparently. It pisses her off. She lifts her gaze up to him again.

“That’s what  _ I’m _ trying to do, I’m trying to  **get out** of here.” She feels somewhat safer admitting her plans to Johnny if he’s really not just an extension of the “Entity”, as they call it. “Everyone says it’s impossible to escape, but I doubt that. I thought  _ you’d _ know, but if you didn’t bring me here… I guess not.”   
  
-   
  
“Nope. If I did, I would’ve said so. I haven’t really made an effort to look for a way out, because honestly? I really,  _ really _ don’t want to give that thing another reason to be mad at me. But I have the feeling it’s been at this for a long time, so odds are someone’s escaped at some point. …Probably.”   
  
-   
  
Devi studies him awhile; she personally has a hard time imagining being trapped or forced into anything and NOT looking for a way out, but, seeing at the tame version of his mangled face, she thinks she may be able to understand.

She stands after a moment and rubs at a scuff on her cheek.

“Well then, no point in staying here. I’m going to go look in the woods more.”   
  
-   
  
“…Alright. This probably goes without saying, but stay safe,” he replies, unable to keep the worry out of his voice. “I’ll be here, unless I get called for a trial.”   
  
-   
  
She gives him an irritated frown — she would prefer if he was as detached towards her as she was to him, but that would be too much to hope for, obviously.

“Thanks.” She replies as she takes a quick look around his yard, his comment reminding her that she’s currently weaponless. “Hm. You got like, a bat, or a pipe, or something?”   
  
-   
  
He nods, adding “Yeah, probably. Just need to check,” as he stands back up, taking a moment to stretch before heading into his house.

He leaves the door open, and inside looks about the same as it did the last time she was there, or at least at the real-world equivalent of it. It’s actually a little neater, surprisingly.   
  
-   
  
Devi lingers by the doorway. Too many ill-feelings keep her from entering, but she takes a moment to absorb, with some surprise, that the inside of his house isn’t washed with the same Horror-genre filter as he is.

It’s still rickety looking, but from what she could see, it still had the same few furnishings. No blood spattering the floor, or torture instruments hanging from the ceiling; it’s by far the coziest place she’s seen since she got sucked into this dimension. She feels some envy at the fact that his home came with him, and hers did not.   
  
-   
  
“I’ve actually gotten in the habit of taking things from trials, when I can,” he calls from another room, “though it’s not always useful stuff.”

Soon enough, he comes back into view, a pipe tucked under one arm. He holds it out to her once he’s close enough, probably moving a few steps back once she takes it.   
  
-   
  
Devi inspects it with some satisfaction; she always feels better in this crappy domain when she’s  _ armed _ . She steps away from the door and tests her swing a few times to ensure she has a good feel for her weapon.

“Thanks, Nny.” She raises her eyes to regard him again, tapping the end of the pipe against the dirt as she finishes. There’s an uncomfortable silence between them without any animosity to fill the air.   
  
-   
  
He gives a quick nod. “’s no problem. I’ll uh. See you later, I guess?” It’s pretty evident that he hopes “later”  _ won’t  _ be during another trial. “And… Sorry, again, for. Well, everything, really.”   
  
-   
  
She hesitates on her response. She  _ will  _ see him later, whether on her own terms or not, and… she still doesn’t feel like she wants to accept an apology from him. His attempt is noted, at least.

“ _ Yeah _ .” She raises her eyebrows sardonically at the ground. More hesitation. She doesn’t want to say anything nice, like ‘see ya’ or even ‘bye’; it’s all just  **weird** . Awkward and weird, seeing him, talking to him, not wanting with all her might to beat his head in. So she turns and starts her walk back to the woods instead.   
  
-   
  
He slumps a little in disappointment as he watches her go, then shakes his head.  _ Shouldn’t have expected anything else _ , he berates himself as he shuts the door.

Well. Time to lay on the couch, stare at the ceiling, and process this new, tangled mess of feelings. For as long as he’s able to, anyways.  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which tensions somewhat lighten between Johnny and Devi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the funny thing is I've had this ready for um. A WHILE,,  
Kind of forgot to actually get around to posting it. My bad!  
Again, bits of weird formatting since it's being transferred over from a couple Tumblr threads.

**devnnylikes** asked: hey johnny, please, tell me how devi's doing. my life revolves around that woman. she doing good? does she need some food i'll send her food--

-

Answer: “What the fuck makes you think _ I _ would know? I only ever see her during trials, or overhear her when I get to hear the survivors at their campfire. And she’s not exactly in a talking mood during trials. Unless she’s yelling at me, obviously.”

-

“If I might interject; I’m doing fine, and I’ll be doing **great **once I find a way out of here. Food would be welcome, as the only things the Entity provides around the campfire is like, water and canned beans. If you could manifest me a shower, that would be great too.

_ Thanks_, Johnny.”

-

“One: How was I supposed to know that? Two: Seriously? I’ve been getting junk food and Brain-Freezies when trials have gone well. …Also I _ do _have a shower. It’s an option, I guess? If you want.”

“…What? ‘s just an offer. I’m not gonna _ do _anything, if that’s a worry. I’ll just watch a movie or something.”

-

“I’ll… _ pass_. Thanks.”

-

(Some amount of time passes)

-

“Okay, I changed my mind. Plague **barfed **on me - let me use the shower.”

-

He just opens the door and points towards the bathroom as he heads back to the couch to resume whatever he’d been watching.  
  
-  
  
She hesitates despite her previous demand to enter. The ghost of Plague’s _ disgusting _ bile on her skin reminds her of her temporarily-forgotten revulsion, and Devi thinks, “FUCK IT”, and rushes to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.  
  


-  
  


True to his word earlier, he doesn’t “do” anything beyond grabbing some snacks, turning down the movie volume (for fear of otherwise being a bother), and continuing his movie-watching in peace.

Though granted, that peace is occasionally interrupted by commentary or laughter on his part.  
  
-  
  
Devi swears to God she’ll never take hot water for granted again. She ignores Johnny’s random fits of laughter and showers as quickly as she can.

Her urgency to get the Hell out of his house has dampened into clammy panic by the time she’s dressed again, due to the fact that she is, currently, _ in his house_. She slowly cracks the door to peek out into the living room, and hopes that she hasn’t snared herself in a new kind of trap.  
  
-  
  
Nope, Johnny’s attention is still firmly stuck to the TV. He _ does _ glance over at the sound of the door, expression shifting to brief, flustered guilt before he looks back to the TV.  
  
-  
  
[This is fine.]

Devi inches her way out of the bathroom. Why, oh why, does the front door have to be across the living room, the direct pathway being in-between Johnny and the television? She doesn’t take her eyes off of him as she steps carefully forward.

Well, not until she hears a familiar fictional murderer’s voice – and _ not _from any of the ones that now chase her around the Realm. She turns and squints at the screen.

“…Which _ Chucky _ is this? I don’t remember this one…”  
  
-  
  


He gives a startled jolt before responding, “Oh, uh, hang on,” and glancing over at the DVD case. “Uhh. _ Seed of Chucky_. ‘s fucking weird.”

-

“** _Seed_ ** _ of Chucky _ ?” Her squint pinches to one side. She wouldn’t brag that she’s seen _ every _ movie ever made, but she’s still a movie buff, and is certain that she has never heard a thing about this one.

“Is that like, his kid, then? When the Hell’d that happen?”  
  
-  
  


Johnny looks down at the case again. “2004, apparently.” He pauses, realizing what he said. 

“…Oh. Yeah, that’s a thing. Time’s convoluted here. I think the Entity just grabs things and people from whenever it wants. The 2000s have a lot of shitty horror movies.”  
  
-  
  
Devi stares at him in shock. She wants to say that’s a total load, but at this point, who was she to say what’s impossible? Freddy Krueger and Michael Myers try to kill her on at least a weekly basis, for God’s sake.

She moves closer to the couch, and gingerly extends a hand to ask for the DVD case wordlessly.  
  
-  
  


He hands it over, probably seeming way too calm about this whole thing. Then again, he’s probably had the time to get used to it. “Between these and the snacks, I’m pretty sure this is the Entity’s way of saying I did fine in trials. No idea if it’s the same for the other killers,” he adds with a shrug.  
  
-  
  
She only half-listens to his explanations, and instead focuses on reading the DVD cover and wondering how long it’s been since she’s held something so mundane in her hands. She’s envious; her “reward” for surviving trials was, surviving.

“Hmhh…” She leans against the armrest, mumbling mostly to herself. “God, I haven’t watched _ anything _ in… _ forever_.”  
  
-  
  


“…You could. Uh. Watch them here? If you want.”

He’s not looking at her as he suggests that, instead keeping his attention fixed on picking at a hole in one of his sleeves, looking flustered again. It’s the fact that he’s even offering this in the first place, mixed with the fear of rejection, more than anything else.  
  
-  
  
Devi lifts her gaze up to him and raises an eyebrow skeptically. It’s sort of funny to see the bloodthirsty “Maniac” look timid and nervous.

For a moment, the atmosphere is foreignly… _ normal_. Just a living room with the TV on; a modest couch and a table with snacks on it. The thought of something cushioned and ‘soft’ like a couch, even this worn one, reminds her that she hasn’t truly rested in… weeks.

She answers his offer by easing into a _ plop _ on the seat beside him.  
  
-  
  


He gives a quick, nervous grin, scooting off to the side a bit for the sake of space (that, and not being sure how much physical proximity is “allowed” right now).

“You can pick the next movie. This one’s almost over, anyways,” he says before unpausing the movie.  
  
-  
  
“Thanks.” She replies as untightly as possible. She appreciates his attempt to give her space, too.

After a few minutes, she eases her back fully against the couch, and sighs contently at the cushy support. So much nicer than tree bark. Or dirt floor.

“What future-movies d'you got? Anything good?”  
  
-  
  


“There’s some franchise reboots, _ Halloween _ got a couple but they’re…” Johnny trails off, grimacing. “They’re bad. The 2018 one looks promising, though. Ignores everything **except ** the first movie. _ Friday the 13th _ and _ Nightmare on Elm Street _ got reboots too, same with _ Texas Chainsaw Massacre_. Plus, turns out that killer with the pig mask is also from some franchise. _ Saw_, I think. Then there’s newer stuff I haven’t really looked into yet.”

He frowns. “Honestly, it’s mostly just horror and slashers. I’m not complaining, but variety would be nice.”  
  
-  
  
Devi leans her cheek into her palm as he talks.

“Jeez, they really milked **all **of those franchises for every cent they could, huh?” Her head tilts cynically. Figures, typical Hollywood. She taps her pinkie across her cheek in thought, still cradling her jaw in her hand.

“I guess… I’ll pick _ Saw_. I don’t know shit about that pig-lady, maybe I can pick up something useful.”  
  
-  
  


“They did, yeah. Hell, Jason went to _ space _ in one of the later movies,” he huffs exasperatedly, leaning back against the couch cushion. “Ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous. Anyways, I’m not sure how much you can learn from the movies, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to try.”  
  
-  
  
She snorts a laugh at the idea of Jason Voorhees in space.

“They’ll let _ anyone _write and direct a movie, won’t they?” She commented snidely. “Sucks to see that the trajectory for cinema doesn’t improve any time soon. Maybe there’s some gems in there somewhere amongst the box-office fodder.”

“I think the _ Halloween _ reboots before the 2018 one were done by Rob Zombie, so they sure fucking _ will_. And yeah, here’s hoping there’s something good. But if there’s not, at least we can make fun of the shitty movies, so at least there’s that.” At this point, he’s much, _ much _less nervous than he was earlier. 

  
-  
  
“Yeah, there’s always _ that_.” She smiles. She realizes what she’s falling into as she does, and worms the smile away in an attempt to look neutral.

There’s a weak attempt to convince herself that this is a waste of precious time in finding an escape, but after weeks - maybe _ months? _ \- with little result, it’s easier to rationalize a nice _ break _ for a change. She brings her legs up to rest more comfortably on the couch.  
  
-  
  


That grin returns for a moment, all sharp teeth and actual, genuine happiness, before his attention goes back to the movie. He’s… Content, for the first time since he came here. It’s not to a degree that would allow him to pretend he’s not stuck in the Realm, but it’s ** _something_**.  
  
-  
  
  
The contentment must be contagious, because despite Devi’s best efforts, she’s getting too comfortable for, well, comfort. The plot of Saw is more engaging than she gave it credit for, but her head keeps dipping every so often, forcing her to flick it back up to feign attentiveness.

An hour in, her shoulders slack, and she slumps against the seat of the couch, asleep in spite of herself.  
  
-  
  


Johnny, of course, notices this, stopping the movie and going to his room. He returns maybe a minute later with an unfolded blanket (admittedly somewhat threadbare, but it’s the thought that counts), hesitating before placing it on her and going back to his room.

Rather than staying on the couch with Devi, he figures it’s better to just lay on his bed, legs dangling off and feet planted on the floor, and stare at the ceiling for who knows how long. Better that than running the risk of her waking up to seeing him still _ there_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how Nny and Devi's relationship was looking up? Yeah, about that: Time for a bit of a hurdle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the order's gonna be a bit wonky since this is kind of a conglomeration of a couple asks AND a thread. Apologies for that, but we're kinda going fast and loose with this whole thing.

**devnnylikes** asked: 1. MURDER. what's up with that? 2. DO YOU KILL PEOPLE? 3. PAIN. good? 4. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN MURDERED?

-

Answer: “…Hang on, that’s the stuff that survey guy was asking me. And I think the answers to those questions are obvious.” - ask-the-maniac  
  


-

**devnnylikes** said: I believe your answer for #4 should have changed by now

  
  


-

Reply: “I’d argue that the phone thing would count more as _ manslaughter _ than _ murder_, though. ‘s not as if the caller knew about what I’d rigged up. So, technically, I still haven’t been murdered.” - ask-the-maniac

-

“What ‘thing’ with a _ phone _ could possibly be indicative of **manslaughter**???” - deadbydevi

-  
  


“I thought I told you about this? How I thought I couldn’t die and set something up to shoot me if I answered the phone.” 

“And then someone called me. And I died.”  
  
-

“Oh… _ right_. You did tell me about that, huh. With the… ‘robot arm’ thing, right?

…I guess that’s, like, 1000 for Johnny, 1 for mystery caller. Pretty even score.”

-

“Yep. And, uh, probably more than 1,000 in terms of kills, but I didn’t keep count.”

-

“**GOD**, Nny.”

-

“It’s _ true_, though!”   
  
\-   
  
“You **suck ** Nny… You should have programmed the arm to keep shooting after you hit the floor.”   
  
\-   
  
“…Noted.”   
  
\-   
  
“Wh… what do you mean ** “noted** ”!? Don’t you feel bad at _ all_, mentioning so casually that you’ve killed over A THOUSAND people??”   
  
\-   
  
“Not particularly! I’ve had a variety of justifications for what I’ve done, and sure, not all of them are _ good _ but they work for me. And I say “noted” because how the fuck **ELSE ** do I reply to being told, by one of the few people who I have a positive opinion of, that I should’ve been fucking double-tapped by the gun?!”   
  
\-   
  
“ _ God _ … GOD…!! Every time I start to like you again, you just remind me that you’re a murderous, completely demon-complacent, abhorrent **TOOL**! SCREW you, Nny!!”

[/stomps back to campfire]

  
\-   
  
“That’s– I’m not– ** _FUCK_ **!”

He doesn’t pursue her; it probably wouldn’t pay off, anyways.

  
\-   
  
Later:   
  
**Anonymous** asked: “18. Does your muse think they’re capable of changing? Do they even want to?” (@deadbydevi)   
  
\-   
  
Answer: “…Fuck. Maybe? I don’t think it’ll be possible as long as I’m here, though. I can’t just **stop ** doing my job in trials.” - ask-the-maniac   
  
\-   
  
She hates his sad, pitiful front. All a dirty wad of lies!

“I would have been inclined to _ believe _ you if you hadn’t just admitted to me that you have **no ** remorse for killing more than **a thousand** people. Bastard.”

  
\-   
  
“Because there’s no point in feeling remorseful. It doesn’t accomplish anything. Between whatever petty justifications I came up with for going after someone, dealing with those fucking voices, and having to paint a fucking wall in blood so **something **wouldn’t break out, I didn’t, and still don’t, have room for much regret.” 

“…Though now that I think about it, I _ do _ feel bad about at least one guy. He seemed nice, but the aforementioned blood was drying. Had to do _ something _about it.”

  
\-   
  
“You… you really are a fucking… **murderer**, aren’t you? A cold, merciless killer.”

She hates that there’s some disbelief in her voice. _ Why _ is she even surprised? Because they watched some movies, and laughed, and he was, again, nothing but cordial to her the whole time? This place must be making her weak.

“You stupid **asshole**, you should feel _ bad _ when you kill people! I—I’ve killed ONE person, ever! One person, when I was a _ kid!! _ It was an accident, I could talk all day about how it’s ‘not my fault’, but it _ bothers _ me! I took someone’s life away; no one has the right to do that.”

“Listen to you… You’re so fucking _ selfish_, Nny…! So self-absorbed. Don’t you care about ANYONE besides yourself!?”   
  
\-   
  
Johnny looks more and more agitated with every insult. “I don’t have the fucking time to dwell and feel bad, not in this fucking place! I’m not acting like I’m a good person, I know what I’ve done is wrong, but I can’t– I can’t reach the point of feeling bad about it when within a second, I can remember whatever justification I might’ve used at the time!”

“And yes, I DO care about other people! ** _You_**, believe it or fucking not, and the kid that lived next door to my house. …Small number, yeah, but I’m not a very social person.”

  
\-   
  
She stares at him with sadder eyes than intended.

“And what _ are _those justifications, Johnny?” She asks. “What do you look back on and agree with, for each and every person, deemed them worthy of a death sentence?”

“What would have been _ mine? _ You moved to kill me, too. Right over there.” Devi lifts her hand up, pointing listlessly to one of the doors connected to the living room. “Right in there, in that room. What would have been the reasoning? Because I ‘ruined the mood’ with my frantic want to escape? Because I didn’t comply with being stabbed to death?”   
  
\-   
  
He quickly shakes his head before looking away, now actually looking guilty. “That… A lot of it was petty stuff, can still get backed up by the need to keep the wall from getting dry. I was under the impression that something would get out if it went without blood, might’ve been right, I’m still not sure whether or not what I saw after getting shot was real or a dream.” 

“And I don’t know if I’d be able to give myself any particular defense with… That. It’d be entirely my fault for listening to one of the fucking Doughboys, my fault for not being able to handle feeling actual joy for once in my goddamn life.”  
  
\-   
  
She steps closer to the window, and leans fully against the sill. A solemn sigh leaves her as she watches the fabricated stars.

“I don’t want the empathy that you can’t spare for hundreds of others.” Devi glances over to him.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people you killed that deserved what they got, Nny, but for the others, I’m no different. I can be rude, judgemental, **mean** —I’m a _ bitch. _ I’m sure you’ve noticed.”   
  
\-   
  
He’s quiet for a few moments, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve before responding. “…I don’t know if I can really spare any as long as I’m here? If I set the precedent of feeling bad for my past body count, I might start thinking about the current one. And this one’s unavoidable, either I do my job in trials or I piss off the thing in charge of this place. I really, _ really _ don’t want to do that.”   
  
\-   
  
Devi turns her head enough to watch him.

“…I guess I’m glad you think you have the capacity to feel guilt, somewhere in there. If you ever had the time to think about it.”

“And, I wouldn’t expect you to feel _ too _ bad about what happens in trials—it’s not like death’s very permanent around here. Don’t get me wrong, Killers still suck, but maybe that’s because I’m on the other end of the hook. Hah.”   
  
\-   
  
“‘s the principle of the thing. Sure, they come back, but it’s not like the trial didn’t happen.” He looks as if he’s about to continue, but stops himself before speaking again. “..I _ was _ going to argue that trials aren’t pleasant for me either, but now that I think about it, getting blinded by a flashlight probably isn’t as bad as being tossed on a meat hook. I don’t enjoy the constantly running pain and bleeding I have to put up with, though.”   
  
\-   
  
“Look at you, being more morally present than I am for a second.” A smile betrays her, so she crosses her arms to try and balance it out.

“I **do ** get what you’re saying, Nny. It’s better to be numb to it all… _ for now_. I guess it’s just… shitty. You’re the only friend I’ve got here, and I don’t enjoy hearing about how you feel no remorse for all you’ve done. I think more of you than that, but I guess that’s my _ own _ problem, huh?”   
  
\-   
  
He perks up, suddenly looking to be in a much better mood, teeth bared in a grin that quickly settles back into a smile. “Wait, wait. _ Friend _ ? Really?” The fidgeting starts up again, though it’s more mindless this time, not an intentional distraction.   
  
\-   
  
“Is that all you got from that?” She says with a quick, airy laugh. She’s realizing how easily his mood changes, depending on what she offers him… and she really shouldn’t abuse that. But it is **fun**, in principle.

“Yes, ‘friend’. You’re the only one interested in helping me in the slightest, so I’d call that a friend. At the very least an _ ally_.”   
  
\-   
  
“Well, I mean, I got the rest of it, but _ that _ took priority!” Johnny admits, now looking somewhat embarrassed. “I’m just– I’m glad to hear it, I hadn’t wanted to presume anything, is all. And the, um. The feeling’s mutual. I’ve talked to a couple other people here, but not all that much.”   
  
\-   
  
Another disbelieving laugh chuckles out of her, and Devi shakes her head at herself. He didn’t want to be ‘presumptuous’ about a friendship—she doubts there’s anyone here as cautiously paranoid as Johnny. She really shouldn’t find it so endearing.

“_Hhhm _ … You really think that you’d be able to look back on all that murder shit, and actually care? Once we get out of here, and all?” She asks, lighter this time. Just a little more clarification, to ease her mind, she tells herself.   
  
\-   
  
He frowns, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling, thinking. “I can _ try_, at least. Admittedly, there’s definitely some that I won’t ever regret. And no, they’re **not **because I’m being petty and holding a grudge over some minor slight,” he adds, attempting justification, before pausing and hissing out a swear.

“**_Fuck_**. The basement’s going to need cleaning when I get back home,” Johnny groans, rubbing at his face with one hand.   
  
\-   
  
Devi’s eye winces, watching him gesture as he speaks. She fails to swallow her curiosity.

“Might I ask, what would be **inexcusable** to you, o’ Maniac?”

“…And, do I _ want _ to know why that tangentially reminded you to spruce up your basement?”   
  
\-   
  
“Off the top of my head: there was a pedophile who tried to take my kid neighbor when he was separated from his mother at the mall, and…” His face twists in disgust. “This guy who, _ apparently_, was inspired by my “work,” and did some copycat killings. That, and he did something that I ** _never _ **fucking would, generally seemed to be into killing more for the thrill than any actual motive, and couldn’t take the fucking hint to leave.”

“I mostly associate that mess with killing him in the basement, so that’s the tangent my mind followed. I… To be blunt, I _ think _ there may be some bodies down there?” He shifts uncomfortably, feeling certain that he’s ruined the mood again.   
  
\-   
  
She blinks her widened eyes in surprise.

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding about some people **deserving** their gruesome fates, huh?” She smiles. “I definitely don’t hold anything against you for murdering scum like child predators or budding serial killers. I hope you tore them apart. Better than the legal system would do, that’s for sure.”

She hopes, silently, that the ‘bodies’ mentioned are the remains of equally deplorable ‘victims’.  
  
\-   
  
He lets out a quick sigh of relief at the apparent approval. “Without going into too much detail, they didn’t get clean deaths. But I guess the point is, I can at least _ attempt _ to feel bad for most of the kills I’ve done, but not instances like those two. That’d be asking for too much from me.”   
  
\-   
  
“Oh, _ good_.” Her smile persists, and she steps away from the window to approach him.

“I’m not asking you to **repent**, Nny, like you’ll turn saintly or something. Just… give me some peace of mind, that’s all. Otherwise, I can’t imagine what’s going to happen after we get out of here.”   
  
\-   
  
“The day I’m declared a saint is the day I lose any remaining threads of hope I’ve got for humanity,” he replies, holding back a laugh before he continues, “and honestly, having gone from one bout of forced killing to another, I think I’m going to have less of an urge to kill once we’re free.”   
  
\-   
  
Her lips part further, and her nose crinkles a little from the playful grin born below it.

“Well I _ hope _ so.” She comments as she walks up to the couch. She plops onto the side opposite him—the side that’s grown the lingering, unspoken title of ‘hers’, now— and leans into its corner comfortably.

“I can’t exactly take you places if you **stab** someone everywhere we go!”   
  
\-   
  
He immediately looks somewhat flustered, keyed in on the implication that she’s still going to want _ him _around once they’re free. “I– Right, yes, that would be bad,” he says, glancing away for a moment.

“I’m… Sorry for being so nonchalant about the murder stuff. It’d just kind of been routine, I guess. Feeling guilt didn’t occur to me much, if at all.”  
  
\-   
  
“ _ Eh _… that’s alright, Nny.”

It’s not alright, not really, but they’re both out of the reach of reality’s touch here; far away from societal norms or even basic decency.

“You were afflicted for what? _ Three years _ before **this** ? I can’t imagine where your thought process has ended up by now… About people, and life ‘n death, all that…”   
  
\-   
  
“Somewhere _ bad_, clearly. To be honest? I’m not entirely sure what I was like before then. Probably not like this,” he admits, gesturing to himself with one hand, as if pointing at his entire mental state, before continuing, “and probably a lot less casual about death. Can’t even say I remember my family, if I even _ had _one.”

He stares up at the ceiling again. “**Fuck**.”   
  
\-   
  
She could only ‘_tsss_’ in response to Johnny’s admission. Loss was one thing, but failing to remember if you’ve lost something worth missing is an entirely different kind of agony. The mind loves to create fantasies, rosy ideas that likely hurt worse to ‘lose’ than reality.

“_Hhhn _ … Ever thought of looking into your identity? Your family and all that?” She asks as she tucks her legs up beside her onto the couch. A semi-optimistic distraction might help, she thinks.   
  
\-   
  
He hums in thought. “Didn’t occur to me when I was still dealing with the wall. But it could be worth looking into.” 

Then he sits up properly only to slouch down, elbows against his legs as he rested his chin on his hands. “There _ is _ the problem of explaining where I’ve been for the past… However long I was gone. _ Especially _ considering the fact that the Entity’s made me look like this. ‘s not gonna be easy to explain the teeth, that’s for fucking sure. Or the rest of this, really.”   
  
\-   
  
Devi offers him a toying smirk.

“Can’t just say ‘fell in with a bad crowd’, or, ‘kidnapped’, huh? All the typical things worried families might dream up?” She laughs dryly.

“That’s what I’ll probably tell my dad… hopefully he won’t want to pry. I doubt it…”  
  
\-   
  
“I don’t think it’ll explain the fact that I forgot them, though. Unless the bullet scar stays around, then maybe I can say my brain got all fucked up from that. And I wouldn’t be _ completely _ lying. ‘Kidnapping’ wouldn’t even be much of a lie either, now that I think about it. ‘s basically what the Entity did.”   
  
\-   
  
“Sure!” Her body sags back with an agreeable shrug. “No reason to bring up the fact it’s a rancid crab-demon who did the kidnapping.”

She snorts, eyeing him teasingly.

“And you can always follow through with the fairytale stereotype families of the missing cling too; the old ‘I lost my memories, that’s why I couldn’t find you’ story, no further explanation… at least in your case _ that’s _ the whole truth.”   
  
\-   
  
“It’s– Is it weird that I feel preemptively bad for them? Because I’m thinking about how they might react, having their missing family member back only for him to not remember who the fuck any of them _ are_. And even then, that’s assuming they miss me anyways.”

He lets out a small grumble. “Ff**fuck**. I don’t want to think about this anymore. Can we watch a movie or something?”   
  
\-   
  
She nods in agreement, though can’t help adding;

“_Tch_, I’m sure they’d miss you. Before the murder and demons, you were the nicest guy I’d ever spent time with. Such a _ conversationalist_.”

“Heh—**anyways**. What kind of cinematic trash has the Entity bestowed upon you tonight?”   
  
\-   
  
“Shitty remakes and bad sequels, unfortunately. I’m not particularly enthusiastic about any of them, but it’s something to _ do_. At least mocking characters will probably be an option.”   
  
\-   
  
“Oh, isn’t it _ always_.” Devi leans off the couch a ways and picks up one of the DVDs on the side table.

“What the Hell’s _ Halloween H20_.” She asks, followed shortly by a cackle. Might as well start the mockery now. “If it’s water themed, I’ll shit.”   
  
\-   
  
“It’s not, it’s just the 20th anniversary movie. Disregards the fourth, fifth, and sixth movies, picks up after the second movie. So it’s got that stupid ‘Oh, Laurie and Michael are siblings’ thing.” He holds back a laugh as he adds, “Trust me when I say its sequel is fucking ridiculous, we can watch that next.”   
  
\-   
  
Devi _ pfft_’s a laugh eagerly, and nods again.

“Sounds good.” She bites her lip slightly in a weak attempt to hold in her snickering. “You got any snacks for such a horrible marathon?”

She scolds herself mentally, just a little, for letting the night shift from murder territory to movie territory, but she’s tired, and she’s satisfied with his answers… for the time being.  
  
\-   
  
Johnny nods. “Yeah, I can go get some chips and popcorn. I think I’ve still got some soda, too,” he replies, getting up off the couch and heading for the kitchen.

This is… Nice. It’s nice. Yes, the earlier discussions will have to be dealt with, but those bridges are for crossing later. Some spiteful little corner of his mind berates that this could have been the norm if he hadn’t tried to ‘immortalize the moment,’ and promptly gets ignored as he gathers up snacks.


	6. Meeting the Reverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, the Entity can reach into alternative realities, resulting in Nny and Devi meeting the "reverse" versions of themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy so this one's... kind of weird to read through? Since, again, it's a transitioned rp thread, and features the both of us (me and sally (devnny on tumblr as well as deadbydevi for this au's rp stuff) playing two characters at a time. To help with reading through things, some explaining:  
-The JTHM characters are referred to as Nny and Devi. The DTHM characters are referred to as Johnny and Vi.  
-The breaks between rp responses are still indicated by a -. However, when it's going from one character to their au counterpart, the division will be –––.
> 
> Also, something I consider important to read beforehand is Interference, which you can find over on sally's tumblr: https://devnny.tumblr.com/post/189231738556/interference  
It takes place at some point before this thread.  
In addition, the ship tags are getting updated since Vi and Johnny did technically get together.

Something’s wrong. Johnny’s scars are gone, his eye’s normal, and he looks confused, even _ afraid_. “…Vi?…”

-

“**Nny!** Your… face is all… _ un-mauled _ looking!” She comments in surprise. An apprehensive smile replaces her open, slackened mouth as she begins to approach him.

“WOW! That’s so —_ well, _ it’s actually kinda weird seeing you with both eyes now, but—so **great!** You must have _ really _pleased the Entity last round. What’d you do, lob everyone’s heads off? Perfect four-hook trial?”

-

He backs away, confusion growing. “What are you talking about? Where _ are _we?!” Johnny asks, sounding pretty genuinely confused, all things considered, as he continues, “I don’t– The last thing I remember is our date, we kissed, and– Pain, everything going black–” The look on his face swiftly becomes a fearful one as he cuts himself off, holding his head in his hands.

-

Devi blinks, dumbfounded.

“Wh… our _ date? _ We—” She recoils in her bewilderment, and her face tweaks up at an angle. “We never **kissed**, Nny. What are _ you _ talking about??”

-

“What I remember! That’s- That’s what I remember happening, and then–” Johnny cuts himself off, suddenly looking horrified. “Y– You ** _killed _ **me, Vi,” he mumbles, realization dawning. Or, well, realization of something that happened wherever he’s from. It’s probably becoming more and more apparent that this is, somehow, a different Johnny.

-

“Nny, calm down!” Her voice raises, but not aggressively; she’s just as confused as he is. She tries again to get closer to him.

“It’s _okay_—God, what’s going on **now**!? I don’t know what that **_thing_** did to you this time, but I promise I didn’t _attack_ you—at least not recently… The last thing we did was watch a bad _Halloween_ sequel, then I had a trial.”

“…and, did you call me ‘Vi’?”

-

“…Yeah? You’d said I could call you that.” He stops backpedaling, confusion overtaking fright again. “This is– I don’t know what’s going on here, this isn’t right.”

-

She looks up at the ceiling, glaring at it as a placeholder for the Entity’s bullshit ‘face’. What fucking NOW?

“Ugh, _ okay _ —” She moves toward his timid form and forcibly sits him down on the couch, taking the seat beside him. “— _ alright_. Explain to me again, with less stuttering, what the Hell you remember last.”

-

He freezes up at the contact for a few seconds before blinking. “Right, right, okay. Uh, we’d gone back to your house, talked on the couch for a while. And, well, we ended up kissing. Then something– Happened. Felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest, and I looked down and there was a ** _knife _ ** and it ** _hurt _ **and I was scared, someone– you? Vi?– was talking, I can’t even remember what she said but everything went… black.” 

Johnny stops, having to take a few moments to collect himself, rubbing at his eyes before adding, “And now I’m. Here? Looks like her house, but different.”

  
\-   
  


Devi stares at him with the wide, focused eyes of a trapped animal. Back to ** _her_ ** place? Talked on the couch? _ Kissing _ — **CHRIST**. The story Johnny was feeding her was just a retelling of their date, but… backwards somehow. This time it was… _ herself _ that was the assailant. And she _ successfully _stabbed him.

“Jee-zus… Christ.” She says finally, fearful to confirm any suspicions, but too curious to not pry. “You’re… I don’t even know what to CALL this! Is the Entity fucking with your head? Or are you really some, alternate reality version of… **you** ?” Fuck this was confusing.   
  
\-   
  


“The, uh, second one, I think. Somehow. Whatever the Entity is, I haven’t heard of it. …Also, wait, if I’m not the Johnny you know, then what’s he like? Did he work at a Blockbuster too, or what?” He’s… A little more calm, now. Still totally baffled, but mildly sure of his safety.

-

She blinks, staring at him incredulously for a moment.

“_Blockb _ —no, hold on, ugh. Sorry. I should explain too, I guess.” She sighs. “The Entity is the demonic… **thing **that controls this place.” She waves her hands into the air to express its all-encompassing-ness.

“It basically takes people that are really good at **killing** , and people that are really good at **not dying** , and pits them against each other in matches called ‘trials’. Short story; this place is total ass.” She hesitates a moment. “And uh, well… the other Johnny—if that really _ isn’t _ you, Nny—is on the _ Killer _side of things, if that says anything.”

-

“…Well. That’s a lot to take in for _ several _ reasons,” he states after a few seconds. “Okay, first: That thing’s made some kind of mistake, because I’m obviously not good at not dying. Second, you **voluntarily ** hang out with the other me? And third: Just– What the ** _fuck_ **! I’m not happy about dying, but I would’ve hoped for an afterlife that’s not whatever bizarre Hell this is!”

-

Devi grimaces, keen on avoiding eye contact now.

“I uh— well, it’s complicated. He’s a killer and all but the circumstances are different… And I’m sure _ you’re _ here because you’re the inverse of **him**. I wonder where he’s at now… Oh shit.” Her worry breaks momentarily as a new thought comes to mind.

“You… don’t suppose if _ that’s _ the case, that uh, MY inverse might be…”   
  
\-   
  


Johnny looks down at his bloody shirt for a moment, connecting the dots. “Oh. Oh no. Maybe? He can handle himself, right? I– When I was with Vi, she was pretty normal, but I’m, uh, guessing she’s not _ actually _like that.”

-

“With what you’ve said, I’d guess that, uh, ‘Vi’, was under the influence of some head-parasite-demons. Nny had 3 or 4 of them, I had ** _one_ **… don’t worry. I destroyed it.” Devi scratches at her head while she thinks.

“More importantly, Nny killed a lot of people to…” She sighs, already having accepted how batshit this sounds. “—to feed blood to some kind of eldritch horror living in his walls. If your Vi is really his opposite, I’d be willing to bet that she served something similar, or maybe even just the SAME.”  
  
\-   
  
“That’s… Bad. I know that’s stating the obvious and all, but this whole thing just kind of seems to get worse and worse? And I’m not sure what to _ do_. A little surprised I haven’t freaked out, honestly. Though maybe that’ll come later.”

He slumps a little, starting to look tired. “I kind of feel like I should apologize, for some reason. Like whatever plans you had were inadvertently disrupted by me, well, _ existing_, I guess.”   
  
\-   
  


She watches him with a look of pity and disbelief. She has trouble believing that this is what Johnny would be like minus all the trauma and demons, but supposes that she has no idea what he was like before. It’s almost sad, Devi thinks, that he could have been so soft.

“Bah, don’t worry about it.” She gets up off the couch and approaches a window to survey the yard. “We basically do the same shit every night. Clean up, watch movies, eat snacks, hunt for an escape from this dimension. Y’know, the ‘ushe.”  
  
\-   
  


Johnny opens his mouth, about to respond, when there’s faint yelling from outside, prompting him to shut it. It’s not near enough to be completely understandable, but some words are distinct enough. In particular, someone shouting out “DON’T _ FUCKING _TOUCH ME.”

It sounds like Johnny.  
  
\-   
  
Devi perks up immediately. She knows that aggressive barking very well.

“C’mon, let’s take a look.” She says firmly, her stare still training on the edge of the woods that border Nny’s ‘domain’. Without waiting for an answer from Johnny, she starts for the door.

  
\-   
  
He’s about to protest, then realizes the alternative is staying in the house. And frankly, given what happened the first time he was there (or at least, the version he knew), he doesn’t like that idea. So, he opts to follow her instead.

The yelling continues, gradually getting closer, but still a ways off.

  
\-   
  
She’s aware of her ‘companion’ trailing behind her, but is more concerned with navigating through the fog and forest ahead than watching after him. Devi slows to a creeping stride as the arguing grows louder, and scans through the brush and trees for any motion in the distance. Just as a rustling gathers her attention at one side, sudden movement on her other snaps her attention in the opposite direction. She sees two people.

–––

“HEE-HEE.” Vi grins giddily. “Johnny, I don’t remember you being so _ wily! _ ❤”   
  
\-   
  


Johnny lets out a gasp, mumbling a fearful “_That’s _ ** _her_**,” as he moves to hide behind a tree. It’s the best he can do, unfortunately. His curiosity, however, pushes him to look out, understandably horrified at the appearance of his other self. “…What _ happened _to him?”

–––

“And I don’t remember _ YOU _being fucking unhinged!” Nny responds, keeping a knife pointed at her as he steadily backs away. Evidently, that’s been his strategy throughout this encounter, attempting to make his way back to the house while keeping an eye on Vi. 

Not that he _ knows _ her actual identity, but he does know that something is very, **very ** wrong.   
  
\-   
  
“NNY!” Devi says with a relieved smile. She moves to his side, unworried about approaching neither him nor her inverted self. This ‘Vi’ didn’t seem to be actively trying to attack him, at least not in a murder-y way, but she keeps her presence in mind as she sets a hand gingerly over Nny’s back. “Thank **God**. And here I was getting worried that you’d been sucked off to another dimension.”

–––

Vi’s smile thins from surprise at seeing someone else approaching them in this seemingly dark, abandoned forest. Before she can be angry at the interruption, her surprise is furthered by the realization that this person looks and sounds quite a bit like… **her**.

“What…” Her smile returns, unwavering, and her eyes shift slowly to the side like a cat-clock as she watches Devi cross the area. “…the _ fuck_.”   
  
\-   
  
Johnny’s keeping hidden. That’s… Really, _ really _ , ** _really _ **not a situation he wants to get involved in. He doesn’t have any form of self defense, and given what he’s learned, doesn’t want Vi to know he’s here. Who knows how long that’ll last, though.

–––

Nny visibly relaxes at Devi’s approach, though still points the knife at Vi. “Nope, still here, and _ very _ fucking confused. Please tell me you understand what’s going on, because I sure as fuck don’t, beyond the guess that the Entity’s done something.”   
  
\-   
  
With a watchful eye on Vi, Devi moves ever-closer to speak, in hopes of keeping the conversation semi-private.

“It seems as though the Entity’s rounded up our _ other halves_.” She says with an ungrateful snort. “A **Killer** me, and a **Survivor** you.”

–––

Vi squints at the sudden quietness, and starts venturing toward the two in front of her. If there’s something sneaky going on, she wants to know about it!

“_ Bunny_…” She hums at Nny. “Any particular knowledge as to why there‘s TWO of me?”   
  
\-   
  


Well. That gets him going through a whole damn face journey, first at Devi’s explanation, then Vi’s “nickname” for him. “…Fuck it, given how things are here, that makes sense I _ guess _,” he replies, keeping his voice down as he continues with, “but then where’s the other me?” Then he shoots a glare at Vi.

“First of all: **Never ** call me that again, I swear to God. Second, keep away from my personal goddamn space and _ maybe _ you’ll get an explanation.”   
  
\-   
  
“He’s hiding.” Devi side-mouths a whisper to him before returning to a normal speaking volume. “Apparently, Killer-me didn’t fail at murdering him on our/their date.”

She keeps her attention squarely on Vi as she talks. It’s bizarre seeing _ herself _ standing there, but at the same time, there’s an energy about Vi that very clearly says there’s something off about her. Definitely not a mirror image, that’s for sure.

–––

Vi is polite enough to let her opposite finish speaking, and a new, interested grin blooms in response at what Devi had to say. She waits eagerly to hear Nny’s reply, very curious about whatever the fuck’s going on.  
  
\-   
  
He frowns, responding with “Noted.” ** _That’s_ ** some information to process later.

“Alright. I guess you,” he flips his knife over, holding it by the blade and pointing at Vi with the handle before (reluctantly) stowing it away, “get your explanation. Context, first off: This whole damn place is the domain of some big fuck-off eldritch thing, the Entity. It takes people it thinks will do good in its trials, either through surviving them or killing the people trying to survive. It wants the sacrifices, or something.” 

“As for the duplicate situation: That thing brought in classic slasher movie characters to participate, so I guess it can reach into alternate realities? That’s ** _probably_ ** what’s going on here.”   
  
\-   
  
Vi’s eyes light up at the small knife-show, and glisten with further interest at what this strangely aggressive ‘Johnny’ has to say.

“_Oh? _ ” She cocks her head. “Well, I don’t have a _ fucking _ idea what that means, but it sounds a little bit like that useless **Thing ** in my wall.” Another pause as she thinks. “…Are you two implying, then, that you’re both from some **other** dimension? Another version of me, and my sweet, little Bunny?”

–––

Ah, the ‘thing’ in the wall — well, that answers one of Devi’s questions. Vi is definitely Nny’s true swap after all. Perhaps from a universe where _ she _was chosen as a… ‘Flusher’? Is that what Nny called it? Whatever.

“Yes.” She answers. “That would be the implication here, for both you and… _ Johnny_.” She refuses to say ‘Bunny’.   
  
\-   
  
“Guess you could compare the Entity to the wall-monster, but it’s way more demanding,” Nny responds, his visible irritation growing as he adds, “And stop with that fucking _ nickname _ , it’s weird! You killed him, and you’re still calling him by a pet-name. Knock it the fuck ** _off_**.”

“Christ. Entity better give you your own place to stay, I’m not sharing my house.” He says that as if Devi doesn’t already basically live there.

  
\-   
  


Devi leans into his ear again to inform him; “Not a good chance of that. Johnny spawned in your house, as far as I’m aware. Said it looked like ‘Vi’s house, too.”

–––

Her smile tilts excitedly at the use of profanity. Johnny wasn’t saintly in his speech, by any means, but he didn’t spit curse words the way she did. This scratched up, sharp-toothed Johnny was certainly fascinating.

“You seem awfully chummy with _ your _ partner there, and I can assume _ she _ killed you? Or was it the other way around?” Her shoulders shrug along with her arms as she brings them up, nonchalantly walking closer to them at an angle. “ _ One _ of you must understand the dynamic here; it was an act of **adoration** … I didn’t want my Bunny to leave me. So I made it that he couldn’t — and he _ didn’t _ , not even after that.”   
  
\-   
  
He holds back the urge to cover up the scarred-over bullet hole on his forehead, instead reaching back into his jacket for a knife. “Again, stay away from my personal fucking space. And– Actually, you know what? I don’t owe you a damn explanation.”

With that, he turns around and starts heading back home. On his way, he _ does _walk past his counterpart. Nny stops for a moment, looking Johnny up and down, before grabbing him like he would any other survivor during a trial (though opting to keep him facing forward, rather than back towards the other two), hefting him onto his shoulder, and continuing on his way. “Don’t say anything,” he whispers to Johnny.

–––

Johnny nods frantically, looking panicked but keeping silent.  
  
\-   
  
Devi spares one last look at her murderous counterpart, then turns to follow Nny back to the house. It feels like a useless effort to distance themselves, since she’s certain that Vi will be rooted to the same area, but she decides to be appreciative of any time available to regroup, no matter how short. 

She smiles to herself as she catches sight of Nny’s effort to remove his double from the situation as well. Maybe he has some self-care left in him somewhere after all.

–––

As he departs, Vi’s eyes catch the halt and then minor change in Nny’s stride, despite the shadows of the treeline, and her curiosity is piqued again. She moves to follow the small troupe, intent on continuing to feed her mind’s growing hunger to know what the **fuck **this place is about, when a force pulls her attention away.

There’s a mild, but urgent, tugging in her mind, demanding for her to go a different direction. Though there is no voice, it somehow gives her the feeling that there is work to be done elsewhere. Vi changes course, with the impression that this new destination might offer more _ immediate _ answers.   
  
\-   
  
“Good fucking _ lord_, that was exhausting as hell to deal with,” he groans. “I don’t want this to be a permanent thing, I do **not **have the fucking patience to explain anything to her. ‘Act of adoration…’ Shut up, you killed him, of course he wouldn’t fucking leave after that! Corpses don’t just up and leave!”

Nny rambles on, venting off his frustration from that entire interaction through one of the few non-violent methods he has.

–––

Johnny, meanwhile, turns his head, barely managing to notice Vi walking off. That prompts a sigh of relief as he slumps back down, trying to tune out whatever tangent his other self is going off on.

All things considered though, he… definitely doesn’t look happy. Understandable, really, given the whole exchange he just overheard.  
  
\-   
  
“Oh?” Devi removes herself from her thoughts a moment with a playful smirk, trudging alongside him with matched purpose. “You sort of explained your attempt on my life similarly, motive-wise anyway, just with a lot less… uncomfortable tones, and _ pet names_.” 

She flickers her attention to Johnny for a second, aware of his downtrodden expression as Nny carries him. The poor sap — he’s going to have a lot worse nights than this one. She doesn’t think he _ looks _ like he will fair well in trials, but who knows, maybe Vi put the fear of God in him and now he’ll be an excellent escape artist.   
  
\-   
  
Nny’s face reddens in embarrassment. “I– The situation was different! _ She _ made a choice, _ I _ listened to the Doughboys like an idiot! … …I’m really not helping my case here, am I?”

He adjusts his hold on his counterpart for a moment, about to continue, before getting interrupted.

–––

“Wait, wait, wait– He tried to kill you, and you _ still _ hang out with him?!” Johnny pipes up, trying to get loose before realizing that’s very much **not ** feasible. “And how’s he stronger than me?!”   
  
\-   
  
She barely hides her smile behind her hand.

“_No _, you’re not.” Devi hums in a teasing tone. She watches Johnny thrash on Nny’s shoulder with some amusement. Their heads are fairly close together, and the juxtaposition of their faces is odd to see, but in an interesting way. She’d almost forgotten how Nny used to look before all the disfigurations.

“Heh — he works out. A real **meathead**.” She lies coolly. “And, I told you it was a complicated relationship. If it makes it any easier to swallow, I killed him on accident after that.”   
  
\-   
  


He looks offended at the ‘meathead’ comment. “That’s not true and you know it,” Nny replies before addressing his other’s question. “The _ actual _ answer is just that the Entity makes its Killers stronger, it helps in trials. With the side bonus of making it way easier to get stuff out from under the couch. It also helps that I– you– _ we_, I ** _guess_**, aren’t really on the heavier end of the scale,” he adds.

–––

Johnny’s quiet for a few moments. “…I _ was _ going to say that doesn’t make any sense, but then again, I died but I’m here somehow, so what do I know? And while we’re at it, any _ other _ weird relationship things I should know about? Or just… Anything in general about this place, I guess.”   
  
\-   
  
Devi snorts at the mention of the couch, then lets out an ‘oh boy’-kinda sigh as she tries to consider how to begin explaining the duties of a Survivor to poor Johnny.

“_Ffffuck _ , let’s see.” She starts casually. “So, the Entity is going to summon you for trials — you have to go, no choice in the matter — and your job is to repair generators to power the door leading the fuck out of there with three other people, BEFORE getting murdered. And by **murdered ** I mean, getting hung on a meat hook, or worse.”   
  
\-   
  
“That’d be my job,” Nny adds, pointing to himself with his thumb. “Well. The killing, I mean. Though honestly if we end up in the same trial, I’ll probably let you go. I’d feel weird attacking some alternate version of myself.”

–––

Johnny looks _ notably _ more unsettled than he was earlier, Nny’s casual tone likely having something to do with it.. “I’ll. Try to keep all of that in mind.”   
  
\-   
  
Upon spotting the ‘end’ of this section of woods ahead, Devi feels more at ease, knowing her only decided shelter is nearby. She smiles at Nny for his comments.

“That is _ so _ kind of you, Nny.” Then adds, to tease him. “You’re not getting soft, are you? I’ll miss the gratuitous rewards for your viciousness, but I guess we don’t **need ** to eat in the Realm…”   
  
\-   
  


He lets out a huff. “It’s _ one _ exception! I only have _ two _! It’s not like I can’t make up for it. Movies without snacks would suck.”

The man certainly does have his priorities, doesn’t he? 

–––

Johnny frowns. “This– Is it normal to act like none of this is a problem? Is that just how you deal with this situation? And, maybe this isn’t any of my business, but what’s the _ deal _with you two anyways–” He lets out a startled yelp as he’s dropped to the ground, Nny looking incredibly unapologetic.

–––

“My arm slipped. Sorry.” 

He does not sound the _ slightest _ bit sorry.   
  
\-   
  
Devi grins at how quickly Nny moves to defend himself, and placate her ‘worries’, then stops abruptly in surprise as Johnny hits the gnarled grass. She doesn’t move to help him up, but raises her eyes back to Nny, who still looks remorseless.

“Very _ mature _ of you, Nny.” She says in an aloof tone, then continues across the lawn to the house.   
  
\-   
  
“He can _ walk_, it’s fine,” he replies, steadfast in his justification. After a few seconds, though, he slouches, apparently giving in to some level of guilt as he pulls Johnny to his feet. “In the future, _ don’t _ ask about that,” Nny mutters to him.

With that, he hurries over and into the house, promptly sprawling onto his side of the couch, face pressed into the back cushion as he gives a muffled, tired groan.

–––

Johnny doesn’t get the chance to thank his double, not that he’d want to, considering Nny was the one who dropped him in the first place. He, with some degree of reluctance, follows the both of them, still dwelling on his last memories of the house.  
  
\-   
  
After some rummaging in the kitchen, Devi re-enters the TV room, and chucks a bag of chips at Nny, beaning him in the shoulder. She plops down beside him, and her knee bumps against his legs due to his apathetic sprawling.

“C’mere Johnny.” Devi says loud enough to be heard outside. “Try an’ relax before your first trial, or, till ‘Vi’ gets ‘home’.”  
  
\-   
  
There’s an indignant noise from Nny when the bag hits him, not moving from his current position. It sounds vaguely like him saying “Rude.”

–––

Johnny hesitantly enters, and almost immediately notices that there’s nowhere for him to sit. Except the floor, obviously, but still. He opts for that, sitting to the side of the table.

“I’m… Not looking forward to her showing up. I don’t know what I’ll _ do_.”   
  
\-   
  
Devi steals the chip bag away from Nny’s lumpy shape and pops it open. She thinks while she chews on a few chips, then nudges Nny with her leg.

“Hey. _ Hey _, put on a movie or something.” She ‘asks’, then focuses on Johnny again. “Yeahhh. She at least seems like she doesn’t want to kill you again, but maybe a trial will put her in the ‘mood’ for it. If anything, we’ll keep her from murdering you, even though I am still very curious about what happens if a Survivor dies outside…”

She shakes the bag down at him to prompt him to take a comfort snack.  
  
\-   
  
“Do it y’self,” Nny grumbles, not moving from his spot, still speaking into the cushion. “‘m resting.”

–––

“Okay, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear that last part,” Johnny replies, barely managing to keep worry out of his voice. He takes a handful of chips from the bag. “What movies do you guys have?”  
  
\-   
  
She furrows her brow at Nny’s uncooperativeness, but only shoots him the annoyed look and nothing else.

“Eh, the Entity just leaves us horror and slasher flicks. Some are from the ‘future’ though, so that’s kinda—” Devi stops speaking abruptly as her eyes scan the wall where the TV sits. The door that once led to the basement, the one Nny said doesn’t open, was… open.

“_ Nny_.” She sets a hand on his thigh and pushes him urgently. “ _ Nny _ — **Nny**.”   
  
\-   
  


“What?” Nny mumbles, though the cushion makes it come out more like “whuh” instead. He lifts his head up, squinting. “Something happen?”

He looks around and almost immediately notices the door. “…Oh. _ Fuck_. That’s new.”

–––

Johnny certainly picks up on _ something _ being wrong, but not the specifics. So he just tenses up, glancing around nervously. That ‘future’ comment did pique his curiosity, but that’s not a concern now.   
  
\-   
  
She looks between the two Johnnys with a grimace, then gets up to check this new development herself. She walks across the room and places a hand on the frame as she creaks the door open fully. Devi stands in the opening for a moment, staring down into the dark abyss of the basement. A quick flick on a faulty looking light switch, and the dingy light bulb hanging above lights the dilapidated staircase.

“Well. There’s definitely a room down here now.” She says. She spares Nny a look over her shoulder, then starts descending down to inspect it further.  
  
\-   
  
Nny follows, a hand tucked cautiously into his jacket. Because hey, who fucking knows what’s down there? _ He _ certainly fucking doesn’t. “What’re the odds this has something to do with ** _her _ **showing up here?”

–––

Johnny doesn’t opt to follow, just standing by the open door. Basements are spooky, and he’s been spooked a lot already in the past, oh, **while** or so.   
  
\-   
  
Devi tilts her head in his direction to acknowledge his presence. She expected him to follow, but feels appreciative that he did all the same.

“I’d say, almost _ definitely_.” She huffs as she reaches the bottom of the steps. She feels the corner carefully, expecting to find another switch for the dark area ahead. Her fingers brush across one eventually, and she smacks it in irritation, illuminating the room as she does. It surprises her to see a trashy, dirtier version of what could have been her _ own _ bedroom in front of her.   
  
\-   
  
“Well. Now I’m more sure of that. This isn’t what this room was like in my house. I’m not a fan of the sudden change in the house’s architecture, but you know what? At least this means I’m not sharing a room with her,” Nny says, repressing a disgusted shudder.   
  
\-   
  
“A small plus.” Devi agrees while she inspects a nearby dresser. “This does however, unfortunately, confirm that she **will ** be **living here**.”

She picks up a lone marker out of the pile scattered across the dresser’s surface, and brings it up to her face with a curious smile. She hasn’t held any _ true _ art supplies in her hand since her time in the Realm started, Johnny’s modest sketchpad and pencils aside. She wonders, as she peeks around, if there’s any paint hiding in this mess…   
  
\-   
  
His response is a long-suffering groan, as well as “Don’t remind me. I don’t fucking want her here!” He leans against one of the walls, crossing his arms as he lets out a sigh.

“You showed up after this, but when I first encountered her out in the forest, she got _ way _ too into my personal space, eyeing me up, that kind of thing. …You might’ve heard me yell at her to back off, now that I think about it. I didn’t know what was happening, but, y’know, realized _ something _ was wrong.“   
  
\-   
  
Devi pops off the marker’s lid and draws a line on a discarded ad. The scratching sound it responds with isn’t reassuring.

“Tch, dry.” She lifts her eyes back up to Nny. “Oh? Hah—we certainly did hear you screaming, just followed the slew of curse words right to you…”

“She give off too many seductive undertones to really be me?” She adds with a teasing smile.  
  
\-   
  
He looks particularly unimpressed by the attempted tease. “More like she was acting like the scars and all were a new thing. That and just… Little differences in behavior, same with appearance. Everything was just kind of _ off _ .”   
  
\-   
  
A laugh _ pffts _ past her lips at his unamused expression. She appreciates his dry ass responses, sometimes.

“And calling you ‘Bunny’?” Devi asks as she moves to sift through more garbage. There’s a lot of sharp objects amongst the clutter, but that’s to be expected, she guesses.

“Yeah, I know. I was all jazzed when I saw other-you. Thought the Entity had given you a **big** reward for a particularly gruesome trial. HAH, poor Johnny was mortified. ‘_B-beheading??? _ ’ he must’a thought.”   
  
\-   
  
“Well, yeah, that was also a giveaway. And I don’t think the Entity’s going to get rid of any of this. Would still want to drive me on during trials, even _ if _ I did incredibly well in one. ‘s weird talking to the other me, just. Fuck, the disconnect in how we act, y’know?”   
  
\-   
  
“You’re telling me. The poor stammering little fuck, looks like he’s been on the verge of tears this whole time.” She pauses, reflecting on the motives for Johnny’s attitude. “Y’know, their ‘date’ ended with him being stabbed and dying, but he told me that it was… in the middle of them kissing. Like, she kissed him and stabbed him during said kiss.”   
  
\-   
  
He pauses, blinking a couple times. “…Wow. That just makes things that much fucking worse, huh?” Blunt, but true. And it’s not as if he feels any trace of envy towards his other self for actually getting kissed, not with the outcome being what it was, or Vi being. Well, like ** _that_**. “It’s gonna be a goddamn mess of a situation to deal with when she gets back.”   
  
\-   
  
“Yeah, I’m a _ real _ cold-hearted bitch. ‘Wonder if “I” beat you in being a gruesome mass murderer.” She muses casually, lifting one of the many stuffed toys off of the floor to inspect it. “ _ Aw_… this is the Batty BatBoy plush my dad bought me in middle school. …Though, I don’t recall him having _ different arms _ sewn on.”

–––

Vi stumbles as she manifests onto a lawn, still spinning from her first trial. **What a ride! **It was easy catching her victims, but it took a little while to figure out where the Hell she was supposed to stick ‘em. After she had got the hang of hooking them, it was rather fun—like a carnival game, but with more blood. Same amount of agony though.

“Oh.” She straightens up as a building catches her attention. “My house.”  
  
\-   
  
“I think I’d win in that particular field if we count what I’ve done _ here_, too. This kind of still counts as murder, I think.”

–––

Johnny looks down the stairs, picking nervously at the edge of his shirt. “Are you guys done down there?” Johnny calls down the stairs, “I’ve got a bad feeling, for some reason.”  
  
\-   
  
“Oh so _ modest_, Nny.” She breathes a laugh. “We’ll see **soon**, I guess.”

Her head tilts up to hear Johnny’s meek question from atop the stairwell. “Looks like we’ve left your jittery duplicate alone too long.”

–––

“Couldn’t have spruced the place up, huh, ‘Entity’-guy?” Vi huffs softly as she approaches the door. She isn’t particularly happy to see residence 777, but supposes its better than no house at all. (Didn’t that stabby-Johnny say something about not wanting to live with her…)

She turns the handle and has only just stepped inside, when her eyes fixate on a familiar figure near her bedroom door.

“—_ BUNNY! _ ” She gasps in delight.   
  
\-   
  
“It’s not like I _ need _ to be modest–” Nny stops, freezing when he hears Vi upstairs. “ ** _Fuck_**,” he hisses as he storms upstairs, scowling and drawing out a knife from his jacket.

–––

The moment Nny’s fully up the stairs and not blocking them, Johnny opts to hide behind him. Good idea to use the lesser evil as a shield, right? **Especially ** when that lesser evil has a knife and an apparent disinterest in harming him.   
  
\-   
  
Devi gags in horror at Johnny’s immediate response of violence, and tromps up the stairs after him as quickly as she thinks the aged wood can handle. She comes to an abrupt stop at the top step, just in time to see Vi do the same in front of Nny.

–––

She stops, though still poised to move forward. Her eyes widen in surprise at the sudden blockade keeping her from greeting Johnny, but they shine with regained interest as she realizes who it is. Her posture raises, easing from coiled to a relaxed standing position.

“_ Oh_,” Vi smiles curiously. “Hello again, _ you_.”   
  
\-   
  
“Yeah, no, let’s just get to the point here: Give him,” he points over his shoulder with his free hand, indicating Johnny, “some goddamn space. Because, in case you ** _somehow _ ** fucking forgot, his last memories of you are kind of _ terrible _.”

–––

Johnny stays quiet, not wanting to take part in the conversation. It’s all just too much for him, too overwhelming. Instead, he opts to do his best to hide himself, avoiding any possibility of eye contact.  
  
\-   
  
Vi’s smile persists, and she pushes forward slowly, already knowing Nny is volatile.

“Is that what he _ said? _ ” She has a difficult time believing so. “Well, seems not terrible enough to stay out of my house, or terrible enough to not be peering down into my **bedroom**…”

Her eyes list over to the doorway, and she takes full notice of Devi there, and full understanding that she and Nny had both just come from below.

“_The Hell’re you doing? _” She asks, her dangerous tone made all the more creepier by her persistent grin.

–––

A cold chill greets Devi’s spine, but she tries to throw it off with a scowl. Vi gives her the same kind of vibes as when Nny first turned on her, but even more disturbing somehow. Maybe it was the fact it was _ herself _talking to her.   
  
\-   
  
“Looking into the new addition to **my ** goddamn house! And hey, consider the fact that he’s currently trying to _ hide _from you. Because, again, you literally killed him.” 

Nny grimaces. “And before _ anyone _ says anything about glass houses and throwing stones, I ** _know_**.” He’s still incredibly reluctant to go into that.

–––

There’s some fearful noise from Johnny, but that’s about it for him.  
  
\-   
  
Devi finishes her last step out of the basement, and takes a spot at Nny’s side. She hopes that this exchange won’t go as badly as Nny imagines, but she’s too healthy a cynicist to believe it won’t, either.

–––

“**Your** house—? _ OH_… **that’s** why you mentioned sharing a home with me.” A giggle titters out. “So, we lived in the same home, different universe, and Mr. Entity is too lazy to make two? Fantastic.”

“—Are you _ hiding _ from me, Bunny?” She changes topics quickly, spying his form cowering behind Nny. She pouts as she adds; “My poor, sweet Johnny—come out from behind your crazy self, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! I can’t trust these two to have given you a warm welcome. ♡”   
  
\-   
  
“You haven’t seen him because you _ fucking killed him _ ! It’s your own fault! I’m fucking convinced the Entity’s doing this out of **spite**.” His grip on the knife handle tightens, aggravation at the whole situation only growing.

–––

Johnny shakes his head, letting out a quiet, shaky “’m fine.”  
  
\-   
  
Vi’s irises dart to Nny, pupils thinner than before.

“Wasn’t talking to _ you_, cyclops.” A kitty smile follows. “We can always talk **later**, seeing as you’re my new roommate.”

“Please, Bunny?” Vi starts again, innocently lacing her fingers behind her as she begins to slowly circle past Nny. “I promise I just wanna talk a little; clear the air, give you some _ explanations _ . With no stabby-type-things involved— _ he’s _ the one with a knife, not me.”

–––

Devi can only wince in sickened bewilderment.  
  
\-   
  
“‘ ** _CYCLOPS_ ** ’?! FUCK _ OFF _ , I STILL HAVE BOTH EYES!!” And _ there’s _ the peak agitation; he’s barely restraining himself from lashing out. 

–––

Johnny shakes his head, moving to keep an equal distance between him and Vi, still using his double as a shield. “No no no no no– Just- Leave me alone, _ please _ –”   
  
\-   
  
Johnny‘s unwillingness to greet her surprises her, and she pouts curiously at his nervous form. Her concern is distraction enough for her to ignore Nny’s yelling. Her poor Johnny, so scared and confused; it makes her wanna hug his sad lil head!

“Aw, it’s okay Bunny.” Vi coos as _ comfortingly _ as she can. “Don’t be afraid, I won’t let anything hurt you here. I know **he** keeps talking about how I **killed** you, but I promise it wasn’t malicious! I’m still the same Vi as before, come talk with me…”   
  
\-   
  
Nny grits his teeth, glancing at Devi with a look on his face that plainly says ‘What do I fucking ** _do_**?’

Though there’s also hints of guilt as, for a moment, some **particularly ** morbid part of him wonders what _ he’d _be like if he’d succeeded in killing her.

–––

He shakes his head again. “No, no, no, I heard it already, I heard what you said to the both of them in the forest. And stop– Stop calling me that, _ please_.”   
  
\-   
  
Vi is taken aback by the ‘confession’, but doesn’t seem to understand why that changes things so drastically. _ It was the truth! _ She cared for him, and wanted to make sure he didn’t leave her or hurt her like the rest; though she does, deep down, accept it as horrible, from how much she missed him after. Maybe not the best idea ever.

“You always liked when I called you ‘Bunny’…” She protests softly. “Don’t be angry, I missed you so much. All the times you came around after that, I couldn’t touch you, and you’d never talk…”

–––

Devi’s lower eyelids bend up more as she matches Nny’s concerned stare. Vi’s addition only makes things more bizarre. She knows how easily manipulated _ her _‘Johnny’ is, and can only imagine that this timid, shaken Johnny is even worse off. She leans into Nny, her cheek almost glancing his.

“_Don’t let her follow. _ ” She whispers by his ear, then rounds behind him and grabs Johnny. She yanks him by the back of his collar, and drags him into a speed-walk for the front door.   
  
\-   
  
Johnny manages a confused “What are you _ talking _ about-” before letting out a surprised yelp as he gets pulled away. He’s not fighting it, though, because lord knows he wants OUT of **that **situation.

–––

Nny moves to block the door the moment the pair of them are out, slamming it shut behind them. Then he braces himself as he turns to face back inside; he’s not expecting Vi to have a good reaction, certainly. He’s still armed, relatively prepared for a possible fight.  
  
\-   
  
“ _ Christ ALIVE_.” Devi exhales irritably, still ushering Johnny to move quickly. She pulls his arm in the direction she wants him to go, then releases him so that she may trudge into the forest uninhibited. “Never thought I’d be such a clingy, cracked-out bitch. _ C’mon_, there’s only one place in the realm where she can’t get to you. No killers can, actually.”

She can hear distantly behind her some crashing, and a very loud “**BITCH.** ” It’s not Nny’s voice though, so she smiles.   
  
\-   
  
He hurries after her, electing to not comment on the ‘clingy’ stuff. “Really?” The relief in his voice is palpable, frankly. There’s a flinch as he also hears the distant noises. “…Are they gonna be alright?”   
  
\-   
  
“_Huh? _ ” She says after a moment. She was lost in her own thoughts about how bullshit this new situation is. “ _ Oh _—heh, yeah, Nny can handle himself.”

She speaks confidently as she leads Johnny further into the woods, the ‘path’ between Nny’s house and the campfire having been ingrained in her head several times over by now.

“I don’t know why the Entity didn’t put you here in the_ first place_.” Devi grunts. “It’s just a big campfire setting, but it’s where all the Survivors go after trials. Killers can’t enter past the invisible ‘border’ around it.”   
  
\-   
  
Johnny shrugs as best he can. “Maybe there was a mix-up? Since we’re kind of the same person, I mean. Sort of. And that- That sounds better than what was just happening, at least.”   
  
\-   
  
“Maybe I’m pessimistic, but I doubt anything in this shitfuck dimension happens _ accidentally_.” Devi blows some hair out of her face, and slows her stride a bit. She needs to save some energy for the mess she’ll be returning to shortly.

“Campfire’s up ahead.” She gestures forward with a bob of her chin. The orange glow of the open area peeks between the trees, and the fog at their feet thins as they approach.  
  
\-   
  
“Oh,” he replies. The idea of all that being done intentionally? Not great. _ Really _ not great.   
  
\-   
  
“Yeah. The Entity supposedly eats the energy from strong emotions, or something like that.” She looks at him like she barely believes what she says, then steps to the side to reveal the campfire to him.   
  
\-   
  
“…I really don’t like the sound of that,” Johnny admits, now fidgeting with the end of one of his sleeves. He’s like fifty percent nervous habit at this point, frankly. The sight of the campfire does bring _ some _ relief, however.   
  
\-   
  
“Yeah, it’s all just one level of shit on top of the next.” She grumbles in reply. “Try an’ talk to some other Survivors, and hope they don’t recognize you as _ other _ Johnny. Doubt it though, with that baby-face of yours.”

“I need’ta get back to the house and make sure Nny doesn’t **kill** his new housemate.” She turns away from the fire’s entrance. Not like anyone likes her here anyway. “You can come by again if you want but, well, _ y’know_.”   
  
\-   
  
“I’ll- I’ll try to keep all that in mind, and uh, thanks for getting me out of _ that _whole situation in the first place.” And with that, Johnny heads over to sit by the campfire.

–––

Meanwhile, Nny’s laid out on the couch, jacket draped over the back of it as he applies bandages to some cuts now littered across his arms. Some furniture’s definitely been moved or damaged, but dealing with that isn’t a priority at the moment.

More noteworthy, though, would be the fact that the basement door is blocked off by a bookshelf, scuff marks on the floor indicating that it was dragged over in a hurry.  
  
\-   
  
“Don’t mention it.” Devi breathes tiredly, then begins the quick trek back to Nny’s (and Vi’s) house.

She hears nothing as she enters the vicinity of the yard, and still nothing as she nears the front door. She hopes that the silence is in her favor as she opens the door, and feels great relief at the sight of Nny bandaging his arms inside.

“Oh **good**.” She sighs, letting her shoulders sag. “Just the knife-wielding maniac I was hoping to see.”   
  
\-   
  
Nny perks up, responding with “Not wielding a knife right _ now _ ,” as he sits up and scoots back over to his side of the couch. He’s not even going to _ try _ disputing the ‘maniac’ part; that’d be a futile effort. “But I guess ‘bandage-wielding’ doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?”   
  
\-   
  
Devi laughs at the comment and shuts the door behind her; no need for any more unwanted guests today. She walks to the couch and promptly collapses onto it on her back, leaving one leg folded over Nny’s knee.

“Well the _ baby’s _ been dropped off at **daycare**, and with God willing, that shelf’ll hold, so we have a second to breathe.” She eyes his wrapped forearm with some concern. “Did she cut you up bad?”   
  
\-   
  
He shrugs. “Jacket got most of the damage, really. I mean, I _ did _get cut a bit, but it’s not that bad as far as knife wounds go.”

There’s an unspoken, implied “_ And even then, I’ve had worse_.” Not even necessary to say that when his various scars are on display.   
  
\-   
  
“ _ Aw! _ ” Disappointment alters her expression to an exaggerated degree. “Not your neat _ trench coat_. Hopefully the Entity will patch it up for you by the next trial? … _ Hngh_, I’m glad ‘I’ didn’t give you more trouble than screwed up sleeves.”

Devi sits up a ways, setting her palms flat on the cushion to prop herself up. Her eyes rest on some of the rarely seen scars on his arms, acknowledging that trouble around **here** can be much more violent.   
  
\-   
  
“‘s fine, I’ve got other jackets anyways. Plus, it’s already kind of ragged, and the rips aren’t too bad. Also, some stuff _ did _kind of get moved around. Nothing broken, thank fuck, but still.” Nny lets out a faint, irritable groan. “This’s going to lead to more trouble later, whenever she gets out.”

He glances over at the basement door, double-checking that there’s not an escape attempt in progress. “Fuck, I just wanted to ** _rest _ **after that last damn trial. Did good enough, but those goddamn pallets–” He stops, he doesn’t need to go off on that tangent.

His arm scars vary in appearance; some resemble claw marks, only larger, others more consistent with impalement or stabbing.  
  
\-   
  
She listens to his prattling, only taking real note of the obvious issue with Vi, and her inevitable escape. She catches him staring at his scars, and gives one a soft poke to distract him.

“Yeah I know,” Devi replies as she continues prodding at the healed-over wounds. “I was almost excited to continue the _ Halloween _ marathon, as bad as they’ve been.”

She gives him a mischievous smile, at her double’s expense. “Well, Vi just got _ back _ from a trial so, we probably have at least a few hours to veg’, huh?”   
  
\-   
  
He shifts away from the poking, tensing up. Seems he doesn’t really want much physical contact right now. Or he just doesn’t want to be poked, who knows.

“That’s about what I expect, yeah.”  
  
\-   
  
Her eyebrows raise at his aversion, but she accepts it, though her mouth slumps to the side. Devi pulls her hand and leg away from him, choosing to rest her elbows on her knees instead. She sets her jaw in her palms and reflects on the ‘day’s events, and how this is going to change a lot of things. Just when things had started to stabilize around here, too.

“I know this sucks, Nny, but you should try and relax while we have the chance.”  
  
\-   
  
He winces. “I know, I know, but. Fuck, maybe this won’t be an issue when we’ve got a movie on, but thinking about the whole situation back where those two come from is… It’s not great. Because _ that _ sets my train of thought down a ‘what if’ path that I didn’t ** _want _ ** to think about in the first place!”   
  
\-   
  
Devi looks at him with modest surprise, then shakes her head, smiling in disbelief. She turns away in an attempt to keep the smirk out of Nny’s sight.

“That’s what’s bugging you?” She hums. She’s only heard his agonized apologies about **that** particular night about a thousand times. “What about it? The irksome idea that _ that _ could be us? Don’t think so.”   
  
\-   
  
“That’s not gonna stop the ‘what if’ question from popping up, though! _ Especially _ since there’s the whole ‘alternate realities exist’ thing now. I just want to turn my damn brain off for a while.” He kind of slumps back, eyes closed as he breathes out heavily. “ ** _Fuck_**. Any of the movie backlog look good for that?”   
  
\-   
  
She watches him with an amused expression before shrugging off his whining with an aloof smile. She could go on forever about how alternate realities hardly affect _ their _ relationship, but she also knows how insistent Nny gets when it comes to unfathomably numerous negative outcomes.

“Well, I had wanted to continue _ Halloween _ , bu-ut, maybe _ Friday the 13th _ ?” She suggests. “What’s more mindless than the plot of slaughtering teenagers on a lake?”   
  
\-   
  
Nny responds with an approving noise. “That could work. _ Jason Takes Manhattan _ , maybe? Or one of the other dumb ones. There’s a _ lot _ of those.”   
  
\-   
  
Devi suppresses a mean laugh, nodding as she does.

“_Jason in Manhattan _ —for **fuck’s** sake.” She wheezes, and gets up off the couch. She sets her boot on the corner of the ajar coffee table as she passes, and screeches it back into place.   
  
\-   
  
“It’s that or _ Freddy vs. Jason_, _ Jason Goes To Hell_, or _ Jason X_. That’s the space one I mentioned a while back,” he adds, wincing somewhat at the table’s screeching. “‘s kinda weird how there’s all those other slashers here, but not Jason.”   
  
\-   
  
“I bet ya Jason asked his mommy and she said ‘no’. HEH.” Devi replies snidely, and squats in front of the TV. She adjusts the screen to face forward properly again, then sticks a random video into the player.

“We’ll play bad-movie Russian roulette.” She declares in mock excitement, before returning to her seat with a slump.  
  
\-   
  
He snorts, holding back laughter. “Yeah, not even the Entity’s gonna defy a parent. _ Especially _ not Pamela fucking Voorhees. If she was willing to slaughter camp counselors over them letting her son drown, who _ knows _ what she’d do if that thing actually took Jason.”   
  
\-   
  
“If she’d like to show up and slaughter the Entity, she’s more than welcome.” Devi smiles at him. She can almost forget, for a moment, that the maniacal version of herself is lurking around in the basement below like a rabid animal.

“Happen to see where that bag of chips flew off to amidst your valiant knife-fighting?”  
  
\-   
  
“I don’t know about _ valiant_, considering it ended with me shoving her down the basement stairs. And I’m not sure about the chip bag. Under the couch, maybe? My priority at the time was less “keep things neat” and more “don’t get gutted,” so.”   
  
\-   
  
Devi cackles at the image of Nny hurling her wild doppelganger down a flight of stairs, and brushes off his unhelpfulness with a dismissive _ ‘psh!’ _

After some half-hearted peering around the table, she bends fully to look under the couch as suggested. She finds the bag tucked off to the side of the sofa’s leg just as the movie menu pops onto the TV.

“Ah, _ Jason Goes To Hell _it is.” Devi passes him a lazy smile, and a bag of chips.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another thread nudged over here. Another hang-out session for Nny and Devi, featuring of course another freakout from Nny because my lord is he prone to those.
> 
> This one also takes place after Interference.

Devi stirs awake after a much-needed, but impromptu, nap. The thinning fabric of Johnny’s couch was somehow both itchy _and _soft, like a well-worn t-shirt — and it lured her into unconsciousness every time her brain grew unstimulated enough to thirst for sleep.

“Your gross couch has no business being _comfortable…!_” Devi calls out aimlessly into the house, fairly confident that Johnny is nearby. She notices as she does that an equally shabby blanket had been tossed over her at some point during her slumber. _Again._ Curse him and all his concern for her…

-

“It does when the only other option is the _floor_!” Johnny calls from elsewhere in the house, probably his bedroom. It’s tended to be where he retreats whenever she dozes off, rather than staying at the couch and continuing the movie. “What, should I ask the Entity for a new couch or something?”

-

She squints in mild annoyance at his uppity tone, and hoists herself up into a sit, crumpling the blanket into a bundle on the arm rest as she does. By the sound of it, Johnny was holed up in his room, so with a quick pop of her neck, Devi rises and makes the short walk to the doorway.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try.” She answers him just as sarcastically, leaning her shoulder against the door frame. Her eyes drift to the pile of boxes and other miscellaneous things piled on top of his box spring. “And your stinky couch isn’t the _only_ option around here, it’s just the only one not covered in **junk**.”

-

“Hey, the couch doesn’t smell! …And the bed’s not even all that comfortable,” he admits, sitting cross-legged amidst the detritus. “Also, it’s in _my _room, I can use it to hold stuff if I want. ‘s not like I sleep much anyways.”

-

She offers him a cheeky smile.

“It _kinda _smells.” Devi pinches her fingers in representation of said couch’s minor, dusty odor. She returns her attention to the bed, and wonders for a moment if there’s a usable pillow underneath all that mess. It_ has _been quite a while since she last laid down properly…

“How long was I out?” She asks over her distracting thoughts about decent sleep.

-

He shrugs. “An hour, maybe? Didn’t really keep track, I’ve just been looking through my stuff in the meantime.”

-

Devi’s mouth slants, and her shoulders offer a non-committal shrug in reply. An hour wasn’t _too _bad, seeing as sleep was a monumental waste of time in this dimension.

“What kinda ‘stuff’?” She asks curiously, tilting her chin up to peek into some of the boxes without venturing any closer.

-

“Eh. So far it’s mostly been clothes, I haven’t bothered to go through all these yet. Sometimes it’s, y’know, stuff I… “used”… back when I had to paint the wall. ‘s all been clean, at least.” Johnny nudges a disorganized pile of weapons off to one side, indicating them.

-

She winces and attempts to swallow the ping of revulsion she feels from the reminder of Johnny’s prior murderous activities. The _current _murderous activities are bad enough to ‘accept’.

“_Clothes_, huh?” Devi muses as she approaches one of the boxes. She lifts up a shirt, and it unfurls to reveal the message; ‘SMILE YOU FUCKER’. Such eloquence.

-

“Yep. I think these’re _also _the Entity’s idea of rewards. I do recognize some of them, but I think others are new? I’m not complaining, though. Better than wearing the same thing over and over.” 

His gaze flickers over to a corner for a second, eyeing a couple of tossed-aside clothes. It’s… Probably what he was wearing during _that _trial.

-

“Hah, yeah, lucky you.” She hums as she sifts through the bundle of clothes. She hasn’t worn anything besides the outfit she was snagged in for **months**. The cargo pants and boots are decent for the activity of _running for dear life_, but her tank-top doesn’t fair well in wet or cold terrain.

As she bunches a pair of jeans to the side, a familiar purple, striped pattern catches her attention near the bottom of the box. With curious eyes, she pulls the article free to inspect it further.

-

“I don’t know about _lucky_,” he replies, looking back from the tattered clothes in the corner. He frowns, mumbling a confused “That’s not mine–” before recognition flickers in his eyes.

“I’m– I have to–” His eyes dart from side to side, realizing with dismay that a hasty exit isn’t possible unless he wants to knock things over, leading to a (probably over-dramatic) groan from him as he falls back, his head nearly thumping against the headboard. “**FUCK**!”

-

Just as the thought “Hey, this is my pullover!” crosses her mind, Devi’s jolted by Johnny’s distraught yelling. She turns to stare at him in surprise, clutching the long-sleeve to her collar.

“Nny!?” She asks urgently as he crumples away. “Wh—what _happened?_ What’s wrong?”

-

“‘s what you wore on the date,” he explains, a little muffled by the fact that he’s got his hands over his face. “Reminds me– ‘m sorry–”

Looks like he’s overwhelmed by guilty feelings. _Again_.

-

Devi blinks in confusion as she tries to process his mumblings. She looks back to the pullover once she settles into understanding; he’s _right_, this was what she was wearing on their date. These and then…

“_No way_.” She whispers in disbelief as she catches sight of the familiar stratchy pattern of her blue jeans at the bottom of the box. The Entity brought her _entire _outfit from that night here? _Why?_ Just to fuck with Johnny?

-

Meanwhile, Johnny’s off on a muttered tangent; It’s mostly strings of curses, likely directed at the Entity. It peters off after a minute or two, him having worn out the urge to ramble off swears .

“Bet it fucking did this on purpose, wouldn’t put this past it,” he eventually says.

-

She sits at an angle on the edge of his bed, in the small space that his mountain of junk allows. She’s still not great at consoling when bodily harm isn’t involved, but she does feel an amount of concern for his reaction, and hopes that her close presence might offer him some comfort.

“I wouldn’t have expected it to bother you so much.” Devi says while she thumbs at the fabric. “I mean, I know it’s from… _that_, but… it’s just my hoodie.”

-

“I know, I know, it’s just. Being reminded and all.” He shrugs from his reclined position. 

“I’ve fucked up a _lot_. There’s, y’know, that, the phone call, the fucking head voice bullshit turning out to be contagious, and pretty much fucking **_everything _**here. So, the reminder of one fuck-up leads into me thinking about _all _of them.”

-

Devi smiles despite his complaints; he goes on and on with his grief sometimes, but with the seemingly endless struggle between them about his lack of remorse, she’s almost _happy_ he regrets so much.

“Not to be an optimist,” She teases quietly. “but have you ever thought of lingering on the **good** memories surrounding that night?”

-

“…Considering my train of thought inevitably ends up back at the bad parts, not really. That and it just feels weird, I guess, considering the uh. Context.”

In other words: The fact that it was a _date_. He almost looks a little flustered, though it’s hard to tell since his face is still somewhat covered.

-

Her grin inches up a little higher. She’s fully aware of the _context—_andit’s only a _little_ cruelly funny that Johnny’s still shy about it.

“Aw c’mon, it was nice wasn’t it? The conversation, the night air, all that…” Her smile (unintentionally) softens with fondness.

-

He lets out a reluctant noise of affirmation before replying, “And then I remember that I ruined it. I can’t exactly _ignore _that part. ‘s just how my thoughts work.”

There’s a quiet, irritated sigh before he adds “These goddamn face scars are _also _a fucking reminder. They weren’t even a thing before I got here, the Entity did this. Guess I deserve them, though.”

-

Devi rolls her eyes and grips the flaps of one of the boxes, dragging it down to the floor with a thud.

“You’re such a downer Nny, I swear.” She says with a hint of a laugh. She starts sorting through more of the junk, and smiles upon finding the boots from the same outfit. “I hope you know, that _I_ don’t linger on your fuck-ups.”

-

He finally sits up, frowning. “I find that _very _hard to believe. There’s a lot of them that can be lingered on. Also! It’s very hard to **not **be a downer considering the circumstances!”

-

Another eye roll.

“Do you think if I still did, I’d be sitting on your bed with you right now?” She asks in a pointed tone.

She picks up her boots by the ankles, and rolls up the rest of her clothes under her arm as she stands. It only takes a few quick steps to leave the room—she’s going to change her damn clothes, whether he spirals over it or not!

-

“I– Well–” Johnny trails off, realizing he can’t really work his way out of this, before replying with a loud, faux-mad, but ultimately noncommittal, “But shut up, though,” as she heads out.

-

Devi’s expression tires further from his weak rebuttal, and she shakes her head while she walks to the bathroom. There’s no reasoning with Johnny after he’s committed to being in a bad mood, it’s better just to wait him out, she’s learned.

She slips inside the bathroom, and shuts the door just hard enough to let him know that she _did _hear him, but has made the _distinct _choice to not answer him.

-

“Hey! Don’t slam the door!” His indignant yelling promptly gets cut off by the distinct sound of at LEAST one box falling off the bed. “–FUCK.”

Evidently, he got aggravated enough to accidentally knock something over.

-

She grimaces at the sound of cursing and things falling, but again chooses to ignore it. Instead she yanks off the tank top she’s been wearing for weeks on end, and happily replaces it with her long-missed hoodie. Or, well, a copy of it anyway.

She changes the rest of her clothes, then takes a moment to preen in the mirror. It _is_ sort of strange seeing this exact outfit arranged together after so long… She remembers how hard she tried to keep her look casual for their date. So much effort for something so minimal.

As she watches herself, memories of that evening return to Devi’s mind, and she tries to ignore the same mix of emotions that Johnny had just lamented over. It’s difficult, when it’s so easy to remember all the details of their ill-fated outing; the moon and city lights, the light wind playing with her hair…

There’s a sudden burning sound around her ears, and after a quick shake from surprise, Devi’s aghast to see her hair short and dark. She screams in shocked confusion, able to do little else.

-

Well. _That _prompts a repeat of cursing and things falling, though this time it’s multiple boxes _**and **_an entire panicked Maniac.

The panic spurs him into rushing over to the bathroom, debating for a moment whether or not to open the door before just doing the damn thing, keeping his gaze firmly eye-level.

“What’s wr– Oh. **Oh**.” He pauses for a few moments, kind of just taking the whole situation in. He then looks up towards the ceiling, though his gaze is obviously directed towards the sky and, by extension, the Entity. “…Guess that’s a thing it can do.”

-

Devi snaps her head in the direction of the abrupt intrusion, but does nothing more than stare in continued shock at Johnny. She turns her attention slowly back to the mirror, and lifts a hand hesitantly up to her spiky bangs. With a few flicks, she convinces herself that her hair is _not _actively burning, or anything else horrible.

“Evidently… _so_.” She replies through her bewilderment, sweeping the loose strands back as she inspects it further.

-

“I’d question why it did this, but the answer’s probably “to fuck with us,” because that’s just kind of **always **its reason for doing shit. …Are you alright, though?” 

Sure it’s probably just a bit of shock from an unexpected change, but that’s not gonna stop him from worrying at _least _a little bit.

-

“Yeah, just freaked me the **fuck** out is all.” She replies, and gives her hair one more whap, then moves away from the mirror, kicking her previous outfit into a pile with a loose swing of her leg.

“I guess I can give these a wash.” She mutters absentmindedly. It’s a weird feeling to kick something without her steel-toe boots—perhaps it’s best if she only wears the small black ones at home. ‘Home’.

-

He makes a vague noise of agreement before heading back to his room; he _does _have to pick up the boxes he knocked over, and clean up whatever fell out.

On some level, some part of him feels like he overreacted earlier. But that thought gets picked up and placed aside since it’s not particularly helpful.

-

Devi regards his retreating figure with a look of discomfort, before scooping up her pile of laundry and heading the opposite way, to the garage. She had mused before about why the fuck the Entity would bother manifesting a functioning washer and dryer here, but decides that tonight it’s a more pointless question than ever.

The whole atmosphere surrounding this outfit was weird, _weird_, **_weird_**. It didn’t _have _to be, but it was, because Johnny’d made it so. She kicks the dryer shut with a snort, and ambles back to Johnny’s bedroom to ‘help’ him sort his garbage.

-

He’d probably be resentful at his stuff being referred to as ‘garbage,’ but it’s not like he’s aware of that perspective.

The weapons were already (vaguely) sorted and stowed away in their boxes, which were shoved away from the rest of the mess. Frankly, he’s not doing a great job at organizing, mostly just putting things away without any rhyme or reason. It’s very _him_, if nothing else.

-

She would agree with _that _sentiment, as she stops in the doorway.

“Good **lord**, Nny.” Devi comments with a look of surprise at the miscellaneous belongings strewn all over the floor, and the few toppled boxed that sat sideways nearby. “Did you knock _everything _off the bed on your way out?”

-

“Not _everything_,” Johnny counters, pointing to a couple of boxes still on the bed. “And in my defense, I panicked. Inexplicable screaming is kind of panic-inducing. Especially considering my– Fuck, I guess they’re coworkers? Still, point is: I wasn’t going to take my fucking time and be careful!”

-

Devi snorts with a wide grin, and goes to say something about how she does _not _scream in terror over any of his “coworkers”, when the recent memory of her tormenting trial with The Doctor returns to her. After a moment of reflection, she shrugs off her denial, deciding to give Johnny this one.

“Much appreciated.” She hums, only a _little _sarcastically, and moves to join him in sorting. She is, however, again distracted by the concept of a **bed**, what with the further-exposed mattress garnering her attention. Another pause, and she moves one more box onto the floor, then lays down on the bed to stretch out contently in the limited space.

-

He looks up from his cross-legged position on the ground, letting out a brief grumbling noise before continuing his work, though there’s no real anger to it. “Thanks for your _incredible _amount of assistance,” he says, heavily sarcastic.

-

She laughs in the back of her throat, and rolls onto her side to watch him ‘work’.

“You really want me to help you?” She asks. “I thought you wouldn’t want me poking around in your _things_.”

-

He pauses. “…Okay, good point there. But still! ‘s just _clothes_. And it’s not really ‘poking around,’ I think, since it’s just putting stuff away.”

-

“Oh al-_right_.” She agrees in a mock-exasperated tone. Devi sits up, only to move down into a seated position with him amidst his mess on the floor.

“Why don’t you just put these in, y’know, your dresser?” She asks as she takes up the task of refolding some pants.

-

“Everything just shows up in the boxes, ‘s more convenient to just leave them there. Even if it _does _lead to the Entity leaving ‘surprises.’” That’s punctuated with a brief glare towards the sky before he continues his work. 

-

She laughed as she added to the growing stack of pants at her side.

“That’s what I_ mean!_ Who knows how long I could have had some warmer clothes tucked away in here.” Her knuckles rapped against the side of one of the now-empty boxes, for emphasis.

-

“The Entity could’ve just sent the clothes to you, but it did _this _whole thing out of spite! Or, well, that’s my view of this whole mess. I don’t think it likes me all that much.”

A statement that isn’t really refutable, considering recent events.

-

“_What?_ **You?** But you’re such a likeable guy!” She smiles. “I’m sure it especially liked you attacking another Killer, and giving shelter to a Survivor… Y’know, that’s probably why the clothes are here. I _live _here, technically.”

Devi resumes her looting through another box, and blinks curiously at the clean black shirt she pulls up. It was so new looking compared to the other tattered clothes here. She turns it around, and her expression softens with acknowledgement, almost sadly so, at the large, white barcode printed on the back.

“_God_…” She sighs.

-

“Could’ve put them in their own labeled box,” he mutters irritably. The sigh prompts him to look up, and it only takes a few seconds for the recognition to click.

After a couple more, he eventually says, “…I need a minute, hang on,” before walking out of the room. It becomes evident soon enough that he walked out of the house altogether, if the loud “**_FUCK RIGHT THE HELL OFF_**” outside is anything to go off of. With that, he heads back inside and resumes his task as if nothing happened.

-

Devi had watched him go with wide eyes, and grimaced when his scream resounded outside. She expects the worse when he reenters the room, but when he returns quietly to continue sorting, she can’t hold in a loud laugh.

“_Nny!_” She wheezes through her snickering – he’s always so dramatic! She’s able to quiet herself after a moment, and sighs through her smile at the shirt that caused the aggressive response.

“…Put this on?” Devi asks, as kindly as she can, though her mischievous tone is as prevalent as always.

-

He grimaces. “I’d really rather not. I’m not gonna indulge the Entity’s bullshit. …And the memories associated with that shirt still aren’t all _great_.”

-

She tilts her head away, already expecting that response. It’s a shame; it’s such a nice, clean shirt.

“You sure? I thought this one looked so cute on you–” She speaks offhandedly, and blanches upon realizing what she let slip.

-

Well, _that _flusters Johnny into complete silence and a reddened face for a couple of minutes. Eventually, he responds with “It’s– Considering your hair got changed when you changed your clothes, I’m just not particularly eager to see what the Entity would do to _me_. Probably the worst-case-scenario of putting glass in my face or something,” he adds with a look of discomfort. 

“That **_was _**a thing that happened that night. My own fault, yes, but I already get the repeated open wounds during trials, I don’t need what caused them to be a factor too.”

-

“_RIGHT_. Right.” She agrees hurriedly with an awkward smile. She wants to interject that ‘Well, maybe if you only put on the shirt,’ or something similar, but instead rubs the side of her face to brush off the lingering embarrassment. It does little to help.

Devi refolds the shirt in an effort to get it away from her, then sets her palm sideways across her persistent, dumb grin.

-

He’s at least aware of her reaction, but still keeps his focus on putting things away. Really, he’s just trying to push _that _whole situation under the rug. Just move on, it’s fine, everything is fine!

-

Devi eyes him with a sly smile hiding beneath her palm. She knows better by now than to expect him to even acknowledge the weirdness in the air. For such an aggressive, combative person, he sure was awkward.

She places her hands on the floor and helps to scoot herself along until she’s sitting beside him, almost shoulder-to-shoulder, then feigns interest in whatever he’s digging through now, if just to lean her head closer to his.

-

And now he’s frozen like a deer in the headlights. Sure, he’s gotten better at dealing with physical proximity and all, but this is still _a lot_, at least for his standards.

The box itself just has more clothes. It’s decidedly less organized than it could be, but he doesn’t seem to mind (or care).

-

She is well-aware of his petrified state, and holds in a laugh so as not to prod his ever-sensitive ego into another eruption of defensive screams.

“You’re not bored of this cleaning stuff yet?” Devi asks, springing one of the boxes flaps with her finger. “Wanna do something else for a lil bit?”

-

“‘m fine, either I deal with it _now _or put it off until I forget, and then eventually remember, to do it.”

-

Her hand tilts inwards, and she sets her cheek over the back of it with a slanted frown.

“You sure? I was thinking of crawling up onto the roof to stargaze or… something.”

-

Johnny pauses. “That… Sounds a lot more enjoyable than this, honestly. So uh, sure,” he replies before moving aside and standing up. Still totally not flustered from the physical proximity, nope, not at all.

-

Devi beams and joins him in standing.

“That’s the spirit, Nny.” She laughs. And here she thought _she _was difficult to get out of the house—Tenna would have a **field day** with Johnny. She started for the door, turning back to say;

“C’mon, I’ma need you to give me a boost… _probably_.”

-

He nods, following after her. “Alright. Though I could just pull you up if I get on the roof first, instead. But either option’s fine.”

Once out of the house, he takes a moment to look up at the sky, vaguely grateful that the view’s unobscured by trees. Though admittedly, it’s probably due to him never really having let any grow near enough to his property to cover the roof back “home”, so the Entity didn’t bother putting any near enough to be a bother.

-

Devi takes a spot beside him, rubbing the sleeves of her hoodie gratefully. Warm arms will never be taken for granted again.

“I know the sentiment’s kinda lost when the sky always looks the same, but, it’s pretty out tonight.” She smiles with a short laugh, then approaches the side of the house. Luckily, it’s not a very _tall _house, with the roof being barely a foot out of reach—but she isn’t going to **struggle **with hauling herself up if there’s a guy with superhuman strength right _here_.

She turns to him with a hand set on the paneling for balance, and lifts her boot with the idea in mind that he’ll heave her up-and-over like a B-rate spy movie.

-

Johnny’s response is a hum of agreement as he follows along. “’s nice, yeah. And at least it’s not fucked up by city lights or anything.”

He readily helps her up onto the roof before he himself climbs up. “…I forgot I wrote that up here,” he mumbles sheepishly, probably referring to the “LAND HERE” painted on the roof. 

-

After gathering her footing, Devi pans her attention across the surface of the roof. The simple sentence hits her late, and she laughs at the absurdity of it; what the Hell would Nny even **do **if aliens took the bait? Feed them to a wall?

Still giggling, she walks into the middle of the roof and lays down flat over the “A” in “LAND”. Her arms stretch out on either side of her, and she stares up at the night sky with a relaxed sigh.

-

His face burns at the laughter. “It was an impulse decision! I’m prone to those!” Johnny retorts as he sits nearby. It’s all mock-anger, though; he’s more embarrassed than anything.

Once he settles back down, he tilts his gaze towards the sky as well.

-

She muffles a few snickers as he joins her, and decides to voice her previous, internal question.

“What would you have done, huh? If aliens _did _land on your roof?” She tilts her head in his direction, and looks up to him with a bright grin.

-

“Hm. Considering how I was back then, maybe try to kill them? Or just freak out. Nowadays I’d just hope for them to be decent.” He shrugs. 

“Frankly, I’d take alien abduction over getting taken by the Entity. …Unless this whole situation technically counts as being abducted by aliens. In which case, I’m painting over this when I get back home.”

-

Another laugh bursts past her lips from his answer.

“HAHA! Y’know, if the Entity _is _an alien, and we’re on some fucked up spaceship running a simulated test of like, human endurance—or whatever it is those trashy Sci-Fi flicks push—I’m going to be mad as **shit**.” She keeps her snide chuckle quiet, and relaxes flat again, focusing on the sky.

“_Hhhm_… if you stare at it long enough, you can almost forget you’re anywhere that you’re not supposed to be.” She sighs, almost content.

-

“If that really is the case, I’m gonna be pissed off too! Fucking hate what I deal with every trial,” he grumbles before making a noise of agreement in response to that last bit.

“At least the Entity gets _some _things right.”

-

“I’m sure it’s just a happy accident.” She replies, in reference to the Entity doing anything ‘good’ on purpose. “I just so happen to _enjoy _stargazing; if you ask the guy that misses the sun on his face, this atmosphere _sucks_.”

-

“Well, sucks to be that guy. I’ve always found the night to be more pleasant, anyways.”

He shrugs. “I can agree about the atmosphere sucking, but that’s more to do with what goes on here than the perpetual night.”

-

“Agreed.” She hums, and extends another small smile his direction. She keeps her attention on his face as he studies the sky, admiring his profile as though it is just as remarkable as the stars cluttered overhead, her smile never wavering.


End file.
